Forged In Chaos
by dsmuso
Summary: Legends are not born but forged. So what happens when you are born to be great, to surpass all who came before? Thrust into a strange and new world will Hadrian bring back honor and prestige to his fallen family? Surrounded by shadows and powers seen & unseen, will the weight of expectation and destiny crush him? Or will he thrive in the chaos and tame fate.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:** _All recognized characters in this story are not mine. Some lady, JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, we all know this. The plot is mine though, I spent enough hours dreaming it up to know that much

**A/N: this is my first story. My attempt at putting forth something I imagine people would enjoy. Please review**

* * *

**Prologue.**

_It is only what is written upon the soul of man that will survive the wreck of time._

_Francis J. Grimke…._

The wind was cool and gentle, almost absentmindedly swaying and rustling the trees; yet it still managed to send a shiver down his spine. His feet crunched loudly on the gravel path that lead to the house, the sound amplified by the quietness of the night. Apart from the wind and trees, everything else was silent; no chirping crickets, no croaking frogs and no hum of flying insects. Nature was wary of this place, and likely would be for a while to come. Truly even he was wary of this place; this tomb. He stopped before the broken door, still ajar as it had been since that night, _'Two nights ago'_ he reminded himself. It seemed so long ago, like a distant memory, yet he knew deep within his very soul that he would never forget anything that occurred that day.

He stepped into the house, his eyes raking over the various signs of battle, reconstructing and supposing what happened. It had been brief and fierce; the gouged floor, torn and blackened walls could attest to that. He had at least gone down fighting, but that was little consolation. He made his way upstairs and the already thick air became thicker still; he was getting closer to the source. Atop the stairs he turned left and faced the first door to his right. It was behind that door that it came from; the source of the pressure on him, the house and some ways beyond the property line. He braced himself before opening the door; the whole place was saturated in the powerful chaotic magic which to his senses made it seem like walking through a thick broth. For a moment he could not truly perceive anything apart from the magic swirling around the room with seemingly no purpose. It was that cool gentle breeze that snapped him out of his trance, making him close his eyes in concentration. Slowly his barriers tightened and the constant pressure became that little more bearable. He opened his eyes to a scene straight out of an alien mind. The room looked as if a tempest, born in anger and rage, had ripped it apart. The roof had been blown up and out, the remaining pieces pointing upwards, twisted and blackened, like the hands of the damned pleading with the heavens. The far wall was non-existent, having been turned to rubble and ash by an incredibly powerful blast. Pieces of furniture and roofing were scattered around the room mostly blackened and some even smoking. The room looked to have lost its colour, the floor looked grey and decaying, and the walls sickly, old and cracking. Smoke and ash still hung in the air, swirling in random patterns and loops, trapped by the chaotic magic.

His gaze was drawn to three distinct points in the destroyed room; two clear impressions and a pile of ashes. The first impression was about six feet from the door and was set at an angle from the door, it was vaguely human shaped and just over five feet. _'Lily'. _The thought brought a dull ache in the pit of his chest. She had been so bright and vibrant, brilliant and set to change the world. Now no longer. The second impression was in the very centre of the room, a perfect circle. _'Where the crib used to be.'_ The circle barely three feet in diameter, was free of any and all debris and the magic seemed to be calmest there, like the eye of the storm. The pile of ashes, he knew, belonged to the defeated Dark Lord, the man who had brought magical Europe to its knees. He would have stayed there staring at the pile of ashes if the constant demanding pressure from the ambient chaotic magic did not put a strain on him. His hand disappeared into the folds of his robe, before coming out with a small crystal vial filled with a golden liquid. With no preamble whatsoever, he uncorked the vial and downed the sand tasting potion in one go.

A sharp pain blossomed behind his eyes, he let out a small gasp, and felt the room lurch and staggered a few steps back before finding his footing. When he opened his eyes the room was no longer the same; the walls were a soft blue and green, with toys spread out on the carpeted floor and the crib in the centre. Yet everything seemed hazy and translucent, as if not truly there; a fading memory. Suddenly the door opened violently, yet made not a single sound, and a woman with vibrant red hair clutching a child came rushing in, her fiery long hair trailing. The edges of her body were hazy and frail, as if she were a construct of smoke desperately trying to maintain some form. She closed the door behind her but did not lock it, manually or magically. Her movements were frantic and rushed but she was gentle as ever as she placed the toddler in his crib. She said something to calm the child but her words were lost to the observer, unable to hear only see. The woman fussed over the child, patting him on the head, her lips moving, seemingly in a chant. Finally, she kissed the child on his brow, tears streaming down her pretty face. Suddenly the door was flung open, rattling the room. Her hair was a coruscating trail of red as she spun on her heel and faced the phantom standing on the threshold. The Dark Lord was a sight to behold; clad in robes of the darkest night and a hood to obscure his face, only his dark scarlet serpentine eyes could be seen. The eyes glowed with an unholy fire and barely contained rage mixed with triumph. His lips moved and he gestured with a ghostly pale hand, the lady shook her head, opened her mouth. In one fluid motion and a mouthed spell, a terrible flash of green and the woman fell limp to the ground.

The child seeming to know that his mother was gone opened his mouth and tears streamed out. The Dark Lord moved forward sidestepping the fresh corpse; he seemed to glide over the floor much like the phantoms he resembled would. He was speaking, whilst he circled the child who upon hearing his voice turned his green eyes to his executioner. Finally, he stood opposite the door at the far end of the room in front of the child. Ever graceful he raised his pale wand; the tip already glowing a sickly electric green; the words were said and for a single moment child and phantom were joined by an electric green tether. Then the world exploded.

Dumbledore winced as in a bright flash the temporal vision was shattered. He pulled out a midnight blue, with literal shooting stars, handkerchief and wiped the blood that trickled down his nose. With one last glance at the room he left the house never looking back. When he had gotten beyond the property line he gave a sharp half turn and disappeared with a small pop. He reappeared in front of a set of large heavy oaken doors, which opened for him as he stepped forward. He quickly made his way along the corridors, deep in thought his legs going by instinct. The sound of voices abruptly stopping brought him out of his internal musings. He looked up to see three people staring at him intently.

"How is he, Poppy?" His soft inquiry stalled any questions that were surely heading his way. In another time he would have given a smirk at his deputy for her impatient stare and pinched lips. But this was a different time, a sombre time.

"The little tyke is asleep and won't be up for at least six hours." Poppy drew in a shaky breath before continuing, "He was crying for Lily..." She blinked her suddenly moist eyes, her hands fiddling with the apron she wore.

"What happened Albus? How did he survive?" The question surprisingly did not come from the turban wearing witch as Albus would have thought but from the rather short charms Professor. Albus took a few moments to collect his thoughts before letting out a tired sigh.

"I do not truly know the answer to that Filius."

"But the potion... Surely you saw something Albus!" Minerva's accent came out thicker than usual prompting Poppy to lay a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Do not misinterpret my answer dear Minerva. The potion worked, not as much as it could, given the environment-but it did work." He began absentmindedly stroking his beard and pacing across the room looking pensive. The other three occupants shared worried looks; Albus could be evasive on many topics, choosing to leave his compatriots solving riddles. But he never looked so out of control like this, seemingly as lost as the rest of them. He looked worried and this made them even more worried.

"Albus what did you see?" Minerva took a step forward, placing a gentle hand on his upper arm to stop him pacing. Minerva was then met with his sharp blue gaze, staring into her soul and she felt her breath hitch.

"I saw Lily die by Voldemort's hand and yet when that same hand turned on young Harry..." He closed his eyes as he brought a hand to rub his forehead. He missed the looks the three threw at each other.

"I was unable to see beyond the casting of the spell; the vision shattered, violently and abruptly."

"Can another attempt be made?" Albus was already shaking his head even before the question was finished.

"The magic there is still too wild, too chaotic- and by the time it dissipates enough..."

"The potion will be useless." Minerva finished with a sigh, moving to seat on one of the beds.

"The events of that night will remain a much-debated mystery, as I doubt the child will remember. Even if he possibly could, I doubt he would want to relive it by relating it."

The four remained in their various poses, each lost in their own thoughts that often went to the child sleeping in the secluded and enclosed area of the room. A soft ruffling sound announced Minerva standing up and drew their eyes to her.

"I suppose I should go make those arrangements we discussed?" She received a nod from her superior before turning to the other male in the room, "Filius if you would accompany me to the bank, I could use your expertise."

"Lead the way Minerva, might as well get it over with." The two then proceeded to leave the room leaving the old man who was still stroking his beard and Poppy who had busied herself with tidying up the various vials and towels.

"Poppy?" The witch turned at the sound of her name and now that he had a closer look at her, Albus now noticed how tired she looked. Her hair always kept in a tight neat bun looked frazzled, several stands loose falling across her face. Her skin was pale from exhaustion and her eyes had dark circles underneath.

"I know I have asked once before – but I feel compelled to ask once again. The taint... Are you sure there is no other solution?" Poppy let out a large sigh seemingly deflating; she cast a sorrowful look at the curtains behind her before shaking her head sadly.

"Believe me Albus, I have looked and searched in all the books I know of that could give insight. I have called and consulted with several associates and even called in a few favours. It all points to the same thing; any attempt to remove it right now is most likely to lead to death."

"When is the earliest it can be done then?"

"By my estimates, no sooner than his second maturity. It would be far safer then."

"Very well then, I will leave you to your work or perhaps some rest?" The witch's lips twitched slightly upwards as the old wizard left the hospital Ward dreading the meetings he would be stuck in for the rest of the week.

* * *

Minerva had been called stone-faced, cold and stoic on many occasions; and she could rightly admit that she was perhaps all those things. She was not a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve – she had seen and experienced too much to keep the habit. Yes, Minerva was a hard woman, but she was also a hopeful woman, a caring woman, a protective woman. Her tender side did not often come out blatantly, more often it was in her actions to those she cared for, subtle little things that only those with sharp eyes could catch. But once in a while her tender side would come out in a big way, blatantly and unapologetically. This was one of those times, just like all the times this particular person was involved really. She couldn't help the small soft but infinitely warm smile that graced her features as she stared at the babe in the young woman's arms. Petunia Dursley nee Evans was holding her nephew tenderly, soft cooing sounds emanating from her lips. Hadrian was giggling joyfully, his fist full of his aunt's golden tresses.

Petunia had confessed that she was afraid that Hadrian might not remember her as she had only met him once when he was only months old. The one-year-old had surprised them all by fussing and calling out to her; only to calm down when she held him. Minerva understood full well how Petunia felt; it was always a treat for mothers to hold onto such a joyful child. Petunia knowing that there were still things to discuss then placed Hadrian in the play pen next to his cousin; and as with all children the two got into a game only they could hope to understand. She then turned to the two other adults currently looking at the children as well.

"He doesn't seem to be taking it too badly." Petunia said as she took a sip from her cup of tea that was still pleasantly warm.

"Poppy says that the memory will fade and become vague, but it will never truly leave him." Albus' blue gaze seemed to pierce into her soul, making Petunia avert her gaze.

"What does that mean for him, long term?"

"Nightmares." Minerva's grey eyes met Petunia's ocean blue. "He's already begun to have them. They will decrease in frequency as time goes, but..." She left the statement in the air, there was really no need to finish it. Petunia turned to look at the child with sad eyes and met gorgeous green eyes, '_Lily's eyes_' she thought nostalgically.

"Could there be any other side effects from him surviving the..." She trailed off uncertainly.

"The Killing Curse." Petunia nodded looking apprehensive; that apprehension only grew when the two magicals shared a look.

"We don't know." This was accompanied by a helpless shrug from Albus. Petunia looked at them surprised before it turned to irritation.

"How could you not know? Aren't you two professors at one of the top magical schools in the country, heck the world?"

"Yes, we are," Albus' calm interjection seemed to stop Petunia from continuing her tirade. "We are rather knowledgeable in many magical subjects but something you have to understand is that what young Hadrian has undergone is something new, something uncharted, something magical, something impossible." Albus let the two women absorb the words for a moment before he continued.

"The curse used on Hadrian is un-blockable by magical means. The curse renders all magical shielding useless and only physical shields can stop it, if they are strong enough. The spell only needs contact with the body even a glancing blow is enough to kill, leaving no physical marks whatsoever. Nobody in recorded history has ever survived it..."

"So, Hadrian is special?"

The two magic users smiled at that, causing Petunia to smile back in return bemusedly.

"Yes, Hadrian is special." Minerva smiled at the playing child who was lost in his own little world.

"Now back to your earlier question... Because of how unique this case is, we truly cannot predict how he could be affected. It could result in nothing at all, though I am personally doubtful of that, or it could even result in the loss of his magic..."

Their discussion was disturbed as especially loud giggles and claps came from the play pen. The two toddlers were surrounded by floating toys that were constantly changing colour. Minerva turned to Albus with a smirk and raised brow causing the elderly wizard to give an amused huff. The two women shared a laugh at the man's expense.

"Still I can't help but wonder why he is being left with me; I wouldn't know what to do if something truly abnormal happened due to him surviving the impossible. Plus, what if one of the followers of this dark wizard come looking for him, I can't defend myself against magic and with two children..." Petunia whose voice had been steady and even had begun to get progressively strained.

"There is no need to worry about that, in fact Hadrian is much safer here with you that anywhere else." Petunia gave him an inquisitive stare prompting him to elaborate.

"You know of the bias some magicals have for mundane people," Petunia nodded impatiently whilst the wizard took his time sipping his tea. He seemed to be mulling it over, choosing his words carefully, "To many Hadrian is a hero, a symbol of their victory; and already they have put him on a pedestal."

"But he is just a child!" Petunia gasped out looking at Minerva for confirmation only to see the witch's grim face.

"That makes him all the more wondrous. A mere child capable of defeating the one wizard who had brought Europe to its knees; the child who in one move has removed the Dark shroud of fear and despair that was permeating the world." Albus voice had taken on an ethereal and faraway tone and Petunia found herself looking from above as countless people cried in despair and fear, only to see a child wipe it away. Slowly she nodded as she begun to understand just what Hadrian represented.

"Their Saviour child could not possibly live in a boring normal mundane neighbourhood."

Petunia looked affronted at the somewhat backhanded insult that the wizard had unintentionally thrown her way. Still she could truly see what it was that Albus was saying. Lily had never hidden how much the bias of the hidden world affected things. There were those who went so far to believe that muggles, as mundanes were often called, were just barely above domesticated animals. It disgusted her to no end that the people who had been blessed with such an astonishing gift could be so obtuse, but there really was nothing she could do about it. People who saw mundanes as sub-human would never venture to the normal world to check if their saviour was residing there. Still according to Lily, the followers of the Dark Wizard were fanatics and it would be stupid to think that such people cared for normal conventions. Albus seemed to have anticipated this as he gave her an answer before she even asked.

"Exactly what are blood wards?" She asked with slight trepidation, she did not like how the mere word itself emphasized _blood_ all on its own.

"Before Lily was – taken, she performed a charm-ritual hybrid on Hadrian for protection. I will admit that I do not know all that the ritual entails; but I do know that it resides in his blood and using your connection to him via Lily's blood; a protective Ward can be cast over this residence."

Petunia shook her head after she digested the abbreviated version of something she was quite sure was complex. She gave a wry smile internally; this was typical of her sister.

"What would the ward do exactly?" Albus took a moment to gather his thoughts before he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together and in front of his face.

"The Ward will extend some of Lily's protection to you and your son. Nobody bearing the Dark Lord's mark will be able to touch you, none bearing the mark will be able to approach this house and if my theory is right; they will feel a great need, when near, to leave this whole neighbourhood."

"That's um...well impressive."

"Yes, your sister was a truly brilliant and gifted woman."

"Will the same protections apply to Hadrian? I wouldn't want him to be in any danger because he's protecting us."

"You have nothing to worry about; in fact, as long as he calls where his blood resides home, the charm will continue to function strong." Petunia nodded, looking relieved.

The talk continued for a while; the kids having dozed off during it all, Petunia had of course put them to bed when she noticed. Petunia was given answers to her questions and was reassured that they would keep in touch as one of their own would soon move to the neighbourhood. She was also informed that she would receive deposits in her bank account to help her with the financial burden of taking care of Hadrian. She was also told that Minerva would visit a few times along with Poppy to give Hadrian his magical inoculations. Once everything was hashed out the two then departed leaving Petunia with a plethora of emotions with two sleeping toddlers. She wondered how Vernon would take the new addition to the family.

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**Author Note:**

So this is my first story on or any other online group to be honest. I've been reading stories on this site for years, you know how it is. At the end of the day there was always an itch, a whisper we all get in our heads; what if this happened? What about that? Or maybe that? So this is the result of that, after a few years of just having this idea rattling around in my head and a couple of months building up the courage to post it, HERE IT IS! I hope anyone who goes out of their way to read this will review, criticism is always welcome, constructive mind you.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine. 

**HUMBLE BEGINNINGS **

_Many can and will tell you about him – his wealth, his deeds, his power. Yes, his legend is spoken the world over but very few people know the man beyond the legend. It's no surprise really, what with him being such a polarising figure. But to know the legend – to truly know it, to understand it, you must know the man behind it. You must go to the beginning, to the root of it all… Let me tell you a story, not of a legend or a powerful man – let me tell you a story of a little boy, a brilliant boy, who wanted to make his ancestors proud…._

_**A Modern Legend: The Life and Times of Hadrian James Potter-Black**_

_**Cassandra Moore**_

Clouds. Large, white and infinitely fluffy; they drifted lazily across the sky. Puffs and wisps breaking off from the larger mass before dissipating a distance away. He wondered what it felt like – to drift and glide, going where the wind willed. He often wondered if it would be as soft as he imagined; lying on the clouds. His cousin had told him it wasn't possible to lie on the clouds; '_Why would you want to anyway? It's cold and wet up there.'_ Still he had asked auntie once and she had given that soft smile of hers, eyes twinkling in that tell-tale sign that she was suppressing a laugh.

_'Harry dear, I'm sure that one day you'll find out just how it feels; you're clever like that.' _ She had then proceeded to ruffle his hair making him pout as it got even messier. His hair in the beginning had often gotten him into trouble with his teachers as no matter how much you combed it, it never resembled anything neat. His cousin often called it a rat's nest, which if he hadn't been annoyed at the time, he might have agreed with. Both his aunt and teachers had of course eventually given it up as a lost cause, which suited him fine. He let out a sigh as he once again brought his attention to the clouds, which he was saddened to realize had thinned out during his introspection.

He lifted up his arm, stretching it towards the heavens; his fingers splayed out as if grasping the distant clouds. His hand was tiny, like the rest of him, except for his fingers. His fingers while keeping well with the proportions of the rest of his body, were a tad long, thin and nimble. Spider like fingers, he had once heard. He rather liked the comparison; the spiders in the cupboard under the stairs were fast little things. He shook his head softly as he brought his attention back to a cloud that rather looked like a bird or maybe an arrow? He tilted his head slightly to get a better look; definitely a bird. He frowned as that feeling of forgetting something important tickled the back of his mind. No matter how much he tried to remember though he drew a continuous blank. He gave a mental shrug; it must not be so important.

BANG! He quickly scrambled upright, eyes swivelling frantically as his heart ran a marathon in his chest. His eyes settled onto the ajar door leading to a set of stairs and the man who stood there looking at him; his face narrowed in irritated exasperation.

"Mr Potter..."

"Hadrian." The man's lips thinned as he took a deep breath through his nose to calm himself down. The little hellion just loved to annoy him; why else would the brat go up to the roof everyday of this week when he happened to be on duty. The child hadn't indulged in his cloud gazing the previous week; yet this week was a whole different thing. He stared at the child as he stood there, fidgeting nervously looking anywhere but the stairwell. The child was dressed in dark blue shorts and a long sleeved light blue shirt with sandals. He was small for his age, but was perfectly healthy with his smooth pale skin and slight frame. His ink black messy hair tumbled around his head while his large glimmering green eyes stared back at him behind long lashes. Despite how awkward it made him feel, even he could admit that Hadrian Potter resembled a cherub.

"Is there something you might have forgotten?" He eventually asked leadingly and smirked as the child dropped his head slightly, his hand scratching the back of it.

"Class maybe..."

"Got it in one," he brought his hands together in a loud clap and delighted in the child's startled jump.

"Come along then; to the headmistress' office with you."

* * *

Hadrian sat on the rather uncomfortable chair outside the office, waiting for his aunt to finish her discussion with the Headmistress. He occupied his time with swinging his legs that came nowhere near the floor, in time to the imaginary beat in his head. He was quite familiar with the Headmistress' office and more so with the outside. He had been here more times than he cared to admit, usually through no fault of his own. He honestly did not understand what was so wrong about him cloud watching on the roof; he had after all finished all his assigned work. He would have struck conversation with his neighbour, if Ms Whitley wasn't so strict. He had happened to glance out the window and had seen the clouds drifting. Such a view shouldn't be wasted was his thought; so he'd left. The class had been boring anyway. He'd tried explaining that once but it had gotten him time-outs; which he didn't really have that much of a problem with except that staring at the same wall for minutes on end got boring really fast. Still he wondered why auntie was taking so long.

"Mrs Dursley, today was the fourth consecutive day that your nephew was found out of bounds; on the roof to be more specific." The Headmistress a middle-aged brown-haired woman started.

"I assure you madam, Hadrian knows not to do anything dangerous. He's rather sensible." Petunia said neutrally, hoping to settle this quickly.

"I am aware of the fact," the lady gave a tired sigh. The whole staff was aware of just who Hadrian James Potter was.

"Every time he has been questioned, the answer has been the same; boredom." Petunia made to protest but was stopped by a gesture from the lady behind the desk.

"Now I know that every parent believes their child to be utterly perfect with no faults; but you are an intelligent woman Mrs Dursley and you know that this is often not the case." Petunia clenched her jaw to keep from lashing out.

"Headmistress, I am well aware of my boys' behaviour, I raised them after all." She took a deep breath to calm down before continuing.

"Now could you stop beating around and get to your point."

"We would like Hadrian to go up a grade or two..."

"Absolutely not! He's too young and to just uproot him like that..."

"I understand your concerns; believe me I do. But I think it would be good for him if he was amongst his intellectual peers. Give him a challenge so that he stops wandering off..."

"What about his friends then?" Petunia was surprised when the lady shook her head.

"I'm not surprised that he didn't tell you. He barely has friends to be honest."

Petunia looked askance at that, Hadrian was such a delightful child; she pointed this to the head teacher who nodded.

"I agree but children are often cruel without meaning to. They are intimidated and so shun him; but he seems not to mind." Petunia was struggling with what she had just been told. Her nephew had never once mentioned the fact that he was without friends at school; neither had Dudley for that matter. In hindsight perhaps, this explained why Hadrian always seemed so happy when she came to pick the boys up; she had just thought he had missed her is all. Was she wrong though? She had her doubts; Hadrian seemed to enjoy spending time with her, helping her on her errands. But maybe he enjoyed it so much because he had nothing else to do. Dudley hardly spent time with her; always off with his little friends. Hadrian on the other hand could be found by her side so much that he might as well have been attached to her hip. She grimaced; she doubted it would be healthy for him, socially at least, to spend so little time with his peers in a relaxed setting. She did not want her nephew to become some sort of social outcast.

"And you are sure that he will make friends in the new class?"

"It is our hope that being in the same class with his cousin could help with that."

Petunia looked unsure, mentally weighing the pros and cons of the situation.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now. Think on it and give me an answer during the PTA meeting next week." Petunia nodded as she got up, her face still thoughtful. She opened the door only to be met with a dull thud to her abdomen. She looked down to find a paper plane with a crumpled tip lying at her feet. She looked up to meet the gaze of her sheepish nephew, a grin teasing the corner of his mouth. Strewn all around the room was a mess of paper planes, some dull white while others came in different colours, some even multi-coloured. The janitor was going to have a field day.

"Hi auntie." He waved cheerfully at her making her smile as she shook her head; perhaps he did have too much time on his hands.

During the trip back home, Petunia had a thoughtful expression on her face; she would occasionally glance at her nephew who was preoccupied with a cone of ice cream. Her ward ambled along besides her, licking the frozen treat on occasion; a content smile plastered on his face. Her nephew could be so contradictory at times; she was well aware that he hated not having something to do, yet there were many occasions where he would just sit around or wander, relaxed and serene. He was mischievous, just like how his mother had been; but unlike his mother he was possessed with a patience not seen in most, if any child. She smiled nostalgically at that; Lily had never been able to sit still as a child; it had often driven their mother up the wall. To be honest, while Hadrian had a mischievous streak a mile wide, he more often than not kept it in check, unless he got bored. Which brought up what the Headmistress had discussed with her, _'Every time he has been questioned, the answer has been the same; boredom.'_ _'Give him a challenge so that he stops wandering off...'_ Those words kept ringing in her ears and she was aware of how very true they were. Hadrian had inherited his mother's intellect and more; the child in her humble and perhaps biased opinion was a genius. The idea of having him skip some grades was not a new one; she had thought of it a few times, especially when Dudley had begun school leaving Harry alone at home. She had almost sent him to school early but had decided against it.

An article she had read one time had convinced her that it might not be a good idea. She couldn't remember it all but she did get the gist of it. It had basically said that certain geniuses often lost touch with the world because they had poor social foundations. She didn't want that for him; to be the socially awkward kid in the upper classes, intimidating older students with his intellect. But it seemed that it was already happening; he had no friends.

"Hadrian," she got a hum in return as the child looked up at her. "Why didn't you tell me that you didn't have any friends?" A slight widening of the eyes before he dropped his gaze down to the pavement. She didn't push him for an answer; he would answer when he was ready, he always did. They walked in silence for a while before… "I didn't want you to get mad at me." Petunia turned sharply towards him but he was stubbornly refusing to look at her.

"Why would I be mad at you?" she asked not only him but herself, but he didn't know that and proceeded to answer.

"When Duds came back from his first day and told you about how he had made friends; you were happy. Really happy. I didn't want to make you sad cause I didn't have any…" his voice trailed off at the end seemingly unsure. They were passing the park so Petunia gently grabbed his hand and dragged him to a nearby bench.

"I would never be mad at you for that; it's not your fault…"

"It's because I'm smarter than them." His quiet voice cut through her own. She looked down at him and was met with an emerald gaze full of emotion and conviction. Petunia wasn't surprised that he knew or at least suspected why the other children shunned him.  
"If…if maybe I wasn't smarter than…" "No!" Petunia's voice startled the both of them and attracted the attention of some passers-by. Petunia looked apologetically at one older lady who was looking at her appraisingly. She then turned to her nephew, not surprised by the curious and attentive gaze. In a quieter voice she continued, "Don't ever think like that. Don't ever think of changing who you are so that some random people can feel better about themselves. You are you Hadrian; don't ever try to be someone you're not." She tried to convey the seriousness of her words by giving him a firm but kind look; she knew he was young but this was amongst the most important things she would ever teach him. Hadrian looked at her then, his gaze still curious, still attentive; he didn't quite understand but he knew that his auntie was serious. So he promised to himself to always remember her words, to always remember her advice.

When she received a hesitant but serious nod from the child; Petunia gave him a radiant smile and ruffled his hair making him pout cutely. She couldn't help but giggle at how adorable the child looked. They sat in silence for a while; Hadrian leaning into her side while she stroked his raven locks. He was finishing off his ice cream which strangely enough was not even showing hints of melting.

"Harry?"  
'Yes auntie?' She couldn't help the soft smile that blossomed when she heard his answer, she liked being called auntie.  
"The Headmistress wants you to skip some grades. Do you know anything about that?" She felt him shift at her side, squirming and burrowing deeper into the underside of her arm.  
"Some of the teachers talked about it, once or twice." His voice was hesitant as he looked up at her.  
"Do you want to skip a grade? Say join Dudley's class?" She watched in amusement as his eyes widened before he turned a questioning look on her.  
"Can I?" she gave him a small smile accompanied with a nod.  
"If you want." "I do." He looked sheepish at how rapidly he answered her making her cover up a laugh.  
"Then I guess you'll be in Dudley's class next year." He gave her an enthusiast nod, a small grin creeping onto his face. "I don't want you slacking off mister, is that clear?" she said in a mock stern voice.  
"Yes Ma'am!" the salute he gave her was ruined by his stupidly happy grin. The two dissolved into laughter a few moments later. After composing themselves they headed off home; Petunia had to make dinner for her three hungry boys.

When they got home, Petunia busied herself with preparing supper; Hadrian as he was wont to do was helping her. He was standing on a stool, much to his shame, by the counter peeling potatoes. In the past Petunia had always fretted that the child would end up cutting himself on the peeler; but like in most things he proved her worry unnecessary. He had been slow in the beginning, his tongue sticking out and brow furrowed in concentration; making sure he did it just right. He had never once cut himself and after he got familiar with the job; he went about it with efficiency, whistling a little ditty. While she was always hesitant to let him handle knives; every time he handled one she always hovered over his shoulder, peeling potatoes was something she left him to do unsupervised. She had tried to get Dudley interested in helping out in the kitchen but other than helping her with the dishes, he absolutely refused to do anything girly. Hadrian was the exact opposite, eager to turn on the oven and chop anything within sight; she had kicked him out on occasion.

She had just helped Hadrian put the potatoes on the cooker to boil when they heard a car pull up the drive. She noticed his head perk up at the sound before he turned to her with a leading look.

"Go along…" she had barely finished talking before he had darted out of the kitchen and she heard the front door open. She shook her head in mock exasperation, _boys will be boys_, she thought.  
"Dudders guess what?" Hadrian's chirpy voice floated into the kitchen.  
"How many times have I told you not to call me that you shrimp?" came Dudley's petulant response.  
"Why would I keep count of that?" Petunia almost giggled at the seemingly curiously innocuous question. She could almost picture Harry with a wide-eyed curious expression. She shook her head as more conversation floated over.  
"…just guess already."  
"You went to the Headmistress' office again?" There was a beat of silence before she heard a whine.

"That's not fair, it wasn't what I asked you to guess!" She heard Dudley sputter in indignation.  
"What do you mean it's not fair? 'Tisn't my fault you're a hellion."  
"I'm gonna be in your class come next year!" There was a beat of silence before a Dudley let out a surprised shout, "What?"

"I'm skipping a grade Dudders; we're gonna be mates, you and me."

"But you're a shrimp!"  
"I'm a smart shrimp." Petunia turned around to see the two coming in, their hands laden with bags full of groceries. She smiled faintly; despite how busy he was Vernon could still be thoughtful. The two placed the bags on the counter, Hadrian going on his tippy toes to reach. Stood side by side you could almost not believe the boys were related. If Hadrian was night then Dudley was day; unlike his cousin his hair was a sandy blond straighter than Hadrian's messy raven locks, Dudley was stockier but also taller, well over a head taller than his cousin, he had healthy peach skin, rosy cheeks and blue eyes a shade lighter than Petunia's. Night and Day as it were. But if you looked closer you would see how their eyes although different colours were the same shape or how they had the same nose. Petunia stepped forward and gave her son an affectionate hug which he returned.  
"I missed you Dudders." She smiled mischievously at him making him pout.  
"I missed you too mommy." He said in a slight whine before he glared at the snickering boy off to the side. She noticed a smudge on his cheek and proceeded to wipe it off with her saliva coated thumb much to his protest.  
"Is it true that the shrimp is going to be in my class."  
"Starting next year and I expect you to look after him; he's a shrimp after all." Dudley and Petunia snickered while Hadrian pouted.

Vernon came in to see the boys scampering off upstairs, probably to get a bath or something before dinner. He walked up behind his wife and wrapped his arms round her delicate waist and rested his head on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, a curious mix off vanilla and cinnamon, he loved her scent. Petunia tilted her head back and caught the corner of his lips with her own in a chaste but affectionate kiss.  
"How was your day dear?" She leaned back into his embrace as she stirred the contents of the pot.  
"Same as usual, Emerson was being a prat again and I had to pick up the slack. I'm exhausted." He buried his nose deeper in her neck and inhaled deeply. Petunia felt a shiver travel down her spine and tried not to let her thoughts wander.  
"So Hadrian is skipping a grade?" His voice broke her out of her thoughts; she took a minute to replay the question in her head before she responded.  
"Yes." She turned to look at him and was met with a raised eyebrow. "I know I said I didn't want to rush him but…Vernon he has no friends in that class."  
"Why doesn't he have any friends, he's likable. A bit of a smart arse, but likable." He grinned as Petunia playfully hit him.  
"Vernon Dursley, watch your language." She smiled at him before her face took on a pensive expression.  
"He's smart, it intimidates the other kids."

"So, what? You think going up a few grades might help him?" he asked not unkindly.  
"Well yes. He gets along with most of Dudley's little friends; plus, maybe he'll stop wandering off because the class got boring for him." Vernon let out a soft chuckle when he heard the last comment.  
"You got called in again today?" She gave him an exasperated nod.  
"Are you sure he doesn't have something like ADHD?" he gave her a teasing grin.  
"No, I had Poppy check just in case." She gave him a sheepish look.  
"Hmm," he gave a thoughtful hum. Petunia gave him a curious look prompting him to share.  
"Oh it's nothing Pet just a thought…" he gave her a dismissive shrug.  
"Out with-it man." She gave him a poke on his muscular chest for emphasis.  
"Well could it be his…um…" he looked around the open windows before lowering his voice, "His magic."

Petunia had always found it slightly comical how Vernon would always look around before mentioning anything to do with magic. Even the word itself was always whispered. She honestly thought that he had gone a tad too far in keeping magic a secret. She often teased him about it; in private of course, but the rather serious look on his face brought her up short this time around.  
"I don't know how that could intimidate the children." She said hesitantly, her face contemplative.  
"Maybe it's in his aura?"  
"His aura?" Petunia snorted derisively before she noticed that Vernon still looked serious, if a tad bit embarrassed. "You're serious, aren't you?" his nod caused her to sag minutely.  
"If he has an aura, as you say, I've never felt it nor have I ever felt anything like that from either Minerva or Poppy." Vernon nodded, her words seemingly confirming something for him. It suddenly struck Petunia that Vernon just might have put more thought into this than she had originally thought.  
"Well you have told me that certain events, when Hadrian was a baby make him unique even amongst people of a similar disposition." Normally she would have laughed at how Vernon was avoiding any mention of magic but this time round she just nodded for him to continue.  
"That could account for that and as to why you never feel anything from him; well maybe the whole blood-ward thing might explain it." Petunia looked at her husband with understanding; Vernon might not be a genius but he was smart and what he said made sense, a bit disjointed but definite sense. Still there was one thing she was curious about.

"Do you feel this aura?" she asked dreading his answer.

"No." she sighed in relief. "But there is something…" her dread came back with a vengeance.  
"What?"  
"His eyes. Sometimes when he looks at me or someone, something happens behind those eyes. Something flashes by; something different." Petunia felt her entire body tense when she heard him say that before she looked at him when he chuckled self-deprecatingly.  
"Look at me a grown man, jumping at bogey men and ghosts." She gave him a strained smile and hummed in response. He did not seem to notice her tenseness or if he did, he didn't comment on it.  
"I'll set the table, supper is almost done. Why don't you go wash up?" she didn't wait for his response before she disengaged from his embrace and set about busying herself with the cutlery. Her motions were practised, automatic, not really paying attention whilst her body did a task she had done a thousand times on auto pilot. Her mind though was a whirl of thoughts and half formed ideas, frantically flitting through her head, trying to gain her attention. All through the usual boisterous supper the thoughts continued to plague her and she barely paid attention to the conversations and jokes being thrown around by her boys. As she lay in bed that night, Vernon snoring lightly at her side blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil, she couldn't get that image out of her head. Green eyes staring deeply into her own before for just one fleeting moment they flash a vibrant electric green; a flash that retreated into the glimmering emerald depths.

* * *

**A/N: **Yea, that's the first chapter after the prologue. The first few chapters are just there to set the tone, building a foundation so to speak. I can't just dive into the massive fights and epic magic that i have cooking up, even though i wish i could. Read and Review, thanks


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not my property.

**MOMENTS**

_Happiness comes from…some curious adjustment to life  
__**Hugh Walpole…**._

* * *

Two young boys were trekking, rather noisily, in the wooded area of the local park. The blond boy was in the lead, making his way across the thicket with nary a care for where he stepped or what he subjected his clothes to. His companion on the other hand had it much better; the raven-haired boy instead of pushing his way through like his larger cousin simply trailed behind, following the path being made by the child bulldozer. Hadrian would have preferred staying at home with a book or two but his aunt had essentially kicked the two out of the house. She had muttered something about book club and coming home for afternoon tea; but Hadrian had barely paid attention due to his simmering. Dudley had suggested that they go to the park, which Hadrian readily agreed with. It wasn't that he loved the park, nor did he hate the park; really it was a cool place to frolic about with friends. But in the past, he didn't like going there, what with his no having friends, thing. But now things were different, he had friends, of a sort; they were also Dudley's friends and only let him hang around because of that, but Hadrian did not care that much, it wasn't really important.

Back when he wasn't in their class, they had just been his cousin's friends; they had been civil with him but they hadn't been his friends. Now though he was part of their group, part of the gang, he liked being part of the gang. The reason why he didn't mind going to the park these days was because that's where the gang usually met up. He was looking forward to this at least until Dudley had the bright idea to change their impromptu plans.

"Are we there yet Dudders?" He broke into a roguish smirk as he heard Dudley huff and mutter things that seven-year olds weren't even supposed to know about.

"I wonder what auntie would say if she heard you right now." He mused innocuously.  
"Prolly the same thing she'd say if she found out that you popped up onto the roof." He turned to give a superior smirk to his shorter cousin who merely huffed in return. "Aren't you always going on about being patient?"

"I'll be patient when we aren't lost in the forest."

"We aren't lost. We just took the scenic route."

"What scene? Admit it you're lost. Tis why you can't tell me where we are going."

"Oh come off it! I never get lost, plus we are nearly there." Hadrian gave the back of Dudley's head a disbelieving stare.

"You said that back when we went past that patch of thistles and that was more than fifteen minutes ago!"  
"Aha!" Dudley pushed past some bushes before performing what he thought was a graceful pirouette and gestured with his hands thrown widely to his sides. "We're here."

Here, as Hadrian found out, was a small clearing in the middle of the woods, the grass was soft under his feet and at the far end he could see and hear the faint bubbling of water; a stream. The sky above them wasn't as obscured by branches and leaves and he could see the blue of the sky broken by the occasional white cloud. It was a nice spot, tranquil and quiet.  
"So…why are we here?" Hadrian asked leadingly making Dudley roll his eyes; but the grin still stubbornly refused to leave his face.

"Training." He said it as if that explained everything but then Dudley noticed that his cousin looked dubious. He gave a mental sigh; Hadrian was scary smart but he could be slow on the uptake sometimes.  
"On her last visit, the scary Professor said that you would be able to do what she does after you had proper training." Harry looked at him curiously before smiling faintly.

"You mean Aunt Minnie?"

"Yes, the cat woman." He said rather uncomfortably. Hadrian gave a small mental snigger. Professor McGonagall or as he called her Aunt Minnie didn't like Dudley very much. It had been Dudley's own fault really – getting too excited and spilling his melted ice cream all over the older woman. It would not have been a big deal if Dudley had done it any other time; but on that occasion, Aunt Minnie had grudgingly showed them her ability to transform into an animal; a cat. Long story short, cats didn't like having ice cream dumped on their backs.  
"Look, enough about the cat lady. Mom is always going on about how magic is a secret and we shouldn't tell anyone that you're a fairy or something…"  
"I am not a fairy!" came an indignant squawk.

"…this place is plenty far and hidden and you can practice." Dudley choose to ignore Hadrian's protests and continued as if he had not been interrupted at all. Harry tried to his best not to pout as he thought about what Dudley had said. This clearing was pretty far; the chances of anyone finding them were pretty low. Plus, he had to admit that he had been wanting to experiment for a while now, but had been afraid of what his aunt might say if she found him. She didn't mind when it happened on its own but she didn't want him encouraging it. Still while he liked Dudley's idea there was one problem.  
"Dudders, I don't have a wand." Hadrian smirked as Dudley's face went red at his hated pet name. Dudley reined in his temper; biting his tongue to keep from lashing out at his cousin. He wouldn't give the jerk the satisfaction.  
"Since when have you needed a stick to do all that? I've seen you do all kinds of stuff without one."

"You're right." Hadrian's tone was one of surprise which Dudley took offense to.  
"Of course I'm right. I'm right lots of times." He gave a superior smirk before clapping his hands; delighting in how his cousin flinched in surprise. "Get to it then. Start breathing out fire or something." Hadrian gave his cousin a flat stare, his annoyance palpable.

"I'm not a dragon, you idiot! Plus, a fire in a forest? Are you daft?"

"At least I'm thinking of things. Not like you; just standing there looking, looking short."  
"Oh just shut up and let me think."

Hadrian hated being called short, he hated being short. Everyone else was tall; Dudley, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Minnie, Aunt Petunia and even his mother had been tall. He hated being short especially if people pointed it out. He took a deep breath to calm himself; he could feel that usual thrum under his skin; his magic. Every time he got excited or upset, he could feel that rush of energy churning and roiling under his skin wanting to escape. When the pressure got too much the energy would escape and well things happened. He had turned his teacher's wig blue once, had gone from standing on the street to the roof in a blink and his favourite; had grown back his hair in seconds after a bad haircut from his aunt. Auntie had told him that his mother had been the same, which was reassuring.

Hadrian looked around the clearing; he could hear the birds chirping and felt the breeze gently caressing his cheeks and tousling his hair. He looked up at the clouds and felt that longing well up in him again, _I want to be up there_. He discarded the thought immediately; it was too ambitious even for him. He then noticed how the light from the sun was being blocked by the tree leaves; forming rays of light. Dudley watched as the raven-haired boy got a faraway look in his eyes, his brow scrunching up. He remained quiet and just waited; Hadrian usually did this when he was thinking hard and coming up with ideas. Slowly as if in a trance Hadrian raised his arm; his hand level with his eyes, palm facing up. Dudley watched in fascination as with a small flare; a ripple of power, a ball of light was suddenly in the smaller boy's palm. It was pure white and the glow was soft but it had a rhythmic pulse to it; almost imperceptible. Harry stared at the ball in wonder; he could feel his power, his magic gathered in his hand but mostly in the ball floating barely an inch above it. He moved his hand from side to side and delighted as the ball retained its shape and followed his movement.

"Is that it?" Hadrian gasped as his concentration broke and the ball of light faded to nothing but wisps of white that got carried off by the breeze, disappearing.

"Look what you did Dudders! You made me drop it."

"I did not! Plus, it was boring anyway. What good is a floating light bulb?"

"Maybe it might help when you drag me to pilfer sweets from the cupboard when it's dark."

"I don't pilfer," Dudley flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Plus, the sweets are ours, I dunno why we can't have them when we want." He huffed indignantly.

"Auntie says we're only allowed them on occasion," his lilting voice was accompanied by a smirk.

"Oh please, remember that day with the tarts?" The smirk on the older boy's face was unmistakable and it only grew as Hadrian flushed red.

"That was different!" It was now Hadrian's turn to be indignant. Peals of laughter filled the clearing as both children remembered the incident. Things were good.

* * *

Hadrian couldn't help but gape up in wonder; there was no shame in it, he'd seen his uncle; big man that he was, take a few steps back. And why wouldn't he? The man standing in front of them was gigantic, and hairy, very hairy.

"So, you're a giant?" said Dudley with as much tact he could muster; which was apparently none. Still it got the point across. His response was a booming laugh, that shook everyone to their bone. They would have run for the hills if the laugh wasn't actually quite pleasant if only a tad really loud.

"No laddie. I'm only a half giant. Compared to giants I'm tiny. I can fit in some of their hands I can!" he laughed at the gobsmacked expression on the three males' faces.

Petunia couldn't help but shake her head in amused exasperation at the excited expressions on her boys' faces. She turned to look at Minerva and noticed that she was looking at the scene with a fond expression; her eyes fixed on Hadrian. The witch was somewhat of a regular visitor to the Dursley household. It had begun as regular check-ups on the young wizard in the family but it had evolved into something more social. The two women found that they shared a few common interests and got along rather well. Minerva had become Petunia's source on the recent happenings in the wizard world; telling her snippets and pieces. Petunia was also quite thankful for the older woman's involvement in their lives. Although she hated admitting to some of her inadequacies; Petunia knew she lacked knowledge about the Hidden World and Hadrian was a truly curious child. Too curious for his own good, she thought sometimes. Minerva was the only one currently able to sate the child's curiosity and Petunia was thankful. Plus, the older woman seemed to relish in the child's curiosity; an educator through and through she was.

"It means a lot to him that you managed to stop by." Petunia remarked to the older woman. Minerva offered her a small smile; which for the usually stern woman was a mere upturn of the lips, waving her off casually.

"It was nothing really; in fact, I needed the break." She wasn't joking about needing a break though; she'd had a hectic month. Albus had been called to help with some incident, she couldn't be bothered to remember, by the ICW and she'd had to take over some of his duties. She hated meetings and paperwork; Albus was much more suited to dealing with politicians and the wealthy. But the school needed donations and she was forced to play nice. Truly coming to this mundane suburb was a breath of fresh air for her. She looked at the young raven-haired boy; he seemed well though she could see that he seemed a little lethargic. She frowned at the thought; the child was usually a bundle of barely repressed energy.

"He's been having nightmares again." Petunia's voice pulled her from her musings.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that." A slight dusting of pink crept up the older woman's cheeks and Petunia suppressed a smirk. It wasn't often that the stern woman could get flustered.

"He hasn't been sleeping well for the past few weeks."

"Same as the past few years it seems."

"Well you did say that they would never leave him, not entirely."

"But, still." Her tone was sombre.

"Still."

Petunia supressed a shiver as she remembered being woken up by the child's screams. Even now the mere memory of those haunted and incoherent screams sent a shiver down her spine. The nights where she had spent holding a sobbing Hadrian were among the worst in her life. No person, more so a child, should go through that, she thought to herself.

"So how have his classes been going?" The question from Minerva startled her out of her thoughts, almost making her spill her drink. Luckily Minerva didn't notice; too absorbed with viewing the antics of the boys.

"He's doing well actually, not wandering off as often; though if that's because of the more challenging school work or his friend's influence I don't know. His teachers are giving him harder assignments." She had a thoughtful look on her face, "I honestly find that I don't mind."

"Well I hope that when he eventually starts at Hogwarts he will take to the subjects with the same enthusiasm." Minerva smiled in her glass.

"He has taken to asking if he can read some of his mother's old books…" she trailed off and looked at the older woman, her tone leading.

"Well, subjects such as History & Culture, Herbology and Astronomy are okay I suppose. Knowing him he'd want to practice the more practical disciplines given the chance, and I assure you that would be dangerous."

"He's too curious for his own good, I swear." She said with no heat, a fond smile tugging at her lips. The smile was returned by the older woman. Minerva opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a grinning Hadrian.

"Auntie! Look, look!" Petunia smiled indulgently and looked at what Hadrian was holding up and was met with startling golden amber eyes. The eyes belonged to a small chick, _an owl chick,_ her mind absentmindedly supplied. The small bird was covered in downy grey feather, its small black beak barely visible over the thick fluffy feathers. The small creature painted a rather cute picture and was safely cradled in her nephew's hands. _Wait what_?

"Where did you get…?" the question was barely past her lips before she stopped herself and stared at the half-giant who was looking sheepish.

"Hagrid says she's mine, for my birthday."

"Found tha lil' tyke up in 'er mountains up north. Was abandoned and all alone in tha snow ya see." Hagrid added his own two cents. Petunia rubbed the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Hadrian had been constantly bugging her for a pet for weeks now and now suddenly one had dropped itself in his eager arms. _At least it's not a snake_, she mused to herself. The boy had an unusual fascination with the legless reptiles. She looked down at his hopeful eyes and knew that she couldn't possibly deny him. Ignoring the slight chuckle from Vernon, she put on her sternest face; or at least the one she could manage in the situation.

"A pet is no small responsibility; you do understand that right?" Hadrian's head was bobbing up and down vigorously with every word she said.

"I'll feed her and train her and clean up after her and everything else auntie." He was smiling now; he definitely knew she was going to say yes.

"I'm serious Hadrian."

"Yes auntie. I won't let you down." He had such a serious face on that she couldn't help but smile at him. She ruffled his hair and like always he pouted. She gave him a shooing motion to which he responded with a bright smile and laugh before bouncing back to Dudley to show off his new pet. Petunia turned to Minerva who was giving her an amused smile.

"Is the bird magical you think?" Petunia mused out loud. She felt a certain level of unease over the possibility. It had nothing to do with any danger posed by the animal; she trusted Hagrid and she knew Minerva would never allow the half-giant to give a child a dangerous magical animal. Her unease was because she didn't know if the owl, if it even was an owl, would exhibit certain magical quirks. She looked at the witch beside her but received a helpless shrug, that did not fill her with confidence.

"I honestly couldn't tell you, I'm no creature expert. But I'm sure either way, the experience will be fun."

Later that night Hadrian was in his room flipping through books and calling out random names to his new pet. The as of yet unnamed pet was in a comfy makeshift nest placed on top of Hadrian's bedside cabinet, constructed from broom bristles, twigs, shredded newspaper and a warm blanket. The little ball of feathers was rather warm and comfortable, evidenced by her drooping eyes.

"How about Ariel? For air?" Hadrian looked up at the chick before getting an indignant squawk.

"You're right that is rather stupid, naming you after a mermaid." Hadrian chuckled to himself before continuing to flip through the book again. He had been at this for the better part of the hour, going through the newly granted books that once belonged to his mother. He was hoping to find some sort of great magical name for his new pet; he had the feeling that she would be magnificent when she got older and was determined to find a name she liked. His pet it seemed was very choosy as every single name he had proposed had been shut down. He had rather liked some of the names, like Morgana or Selene but the bird turned them all down. He flipped a few more pages before he found a name he liked; he looked at what he was quickly discovering, his stubborn bird.

"Look we are both tired and if this one doesn't catch your fancy, then we'll pick a name tomorrow." The young chick seemed to debate the veracity of his words before bobbing her head.

"How about, Hedwig?" There was a long moment of silence, the owl chick had her head turned to the side seemingly thinking. Harry found himself holding his breath; this was the longest the avian had taken to think on a name. A soft pleased hoot was his response as the bird seemed to puff herself up in approval, she looked cute. Harry let out a pleased and amused chuckle. He lifted his arm up and stroked her delicate and soft feathers getting a pleased hoot out of her.

"I think we are gonna get along just fine…" he smiled softly at the bird. Golden amber eyes meeting emerald green, "Hedwig."

* * *

Attics are traditionally rather dirty, dusty and cramped places; surprisingly this was not the case with the attic in the Dursley household. This was all due to one of Mrs Dursley's often harmless quirks; Petunia was a neat freak. She would clean, scrub, dust and polish till her arms were red and sore and everything had a pleasant shine and lemony scent to it. Her high standard of neatness did not end with merely the interior of her house. Her grass was evergreen and cut, her various flowers and bushes were healthy and trimmed, the exterior of the house always seemed to have a fresh set of paint. All in all, things were pristine; but unlike most neat freaks Petunia made it all seem natural and not clinical. This attitude was reflected in the attic; there was neither dust nor cobwebs. Everything was packed in boxes, with labels, that were placed along the walls in neat stacks. The attic had two windows, that were clear of any items to let natural light filter in. An old but large rag was placed in the centre of the floor and this was where Hadrian lay. He liked being in the attic; it was quiet and the windows offered him a great view of the neighbourhood. He had spent hours on either of those windows gazing down at the goings-on of the people unaware of their observer. Dudley hated the attic, found it cramped-which Hadrian supposed was to be expected, Dudley was bigger than him. Hadrian of course didn't mind the small space and as long as he didn't make a mess of the place his aunt turned a blind eye to his adventures up there.

Hadrian was lying on his stomach, a few worn looking books scattered about him though one was in front of him, his eyes glued to its pages. Hedwig had been placed on a box near the window, where the sun and wind could reach her. It had been few weeks since he had gotten her and her feathers had started to lighten up. She could not yet fly as she was still too young but she could toddle along the ground fairly well and if she needed to go far Hadrian was more than willing to carry her around. The young avian was currently dozing, the gentle breeze coming from the window coaxing her slowly but surely into slumber. Hadrian paid her no mind at all, so engrossed was he in his book….

_Of the many magical disciplines; the study and use of Runes is perhaps the most versatile and complex tool in a mage's hands. With the right formation, formula and adequate application of power, the possibilities are near endless with the user's imagination being their only limit. Runes are often and fondly referred to as the Word of Magic and at their most basic, Runes are the Language of Magic. The most common uses of Runes are in Warding and Enchantment but Runes can do so much more. In ancient times, powerful Runemasters could and would change the course of massive battles with a mere single array. But the applications of Runes do not just fall in the realm of battle; Runes can and have been used in Medicine, construction, sport and so much more._

_Runes are not something that can be mastered in a few sessions like some common place charm or illusion. Runes are an art and mastering and unlocking their deep secrets is a life long journey. This journey requires patience, dedication, strength of will, an open mind and no small amount of faith. Every character, symbol and figure in the many Runic alphabets has a meaning and with this meaning comes power; be it subtle or very much evident. It is therefore of the utmost importance to become familiar and understand the different and often multiple meanings of runes so as to avert disaster._

_Let us begin by first looking at perhaps the most used alphabet, the Elder Futhark…._

Hadrian could hardly keep his excitement in check as he continued to read through the book on Runes. Admittedly some of the words being used were a bit beyond him but that's what a dictionary was for. Even then he could at least understand what the gist of it was; write something down and something will happen. It sounded so simple to him and it had so many uses – his mind couldn't help but envision himself standing before an army of trolls, fearless in the face of such overwhelming odds and then glowing archaic script appearing before him and decimating the army. He let out an excited giggle, rousing Hedwig in the process. The bird turned an irritated glare on her young owner but Hadrian was oblivious. He was busy rummaging through some boxes in the corner muttering under his breath. His movements were jerky and frantic; he was clearly excited.

"Where is it, where is it? Aha!" he pulled out some wooden blocks. The blocks were clearly old and were worn though were in surprisingly good condition. They had been his and Dudley's toys when they were mere babes. He quickly made his way back to the book he had somewhat carelessly thrown on the floor. He put the blocks by his side and picked up the book; frantically turning the pages until he found what he was looking for. Archaic symbols stared back at him and he traced them with his eyes. It was strange how the symbols had individually looked block like; they were striking of course but when written together in formation the script looked elegant, beautiful even. He smiled giddily; he could feel a pleasant thrum under his skin.

He pulled out his birthday present from his uncle, a pocket knife; oh how his aunt had protested. It was fairly large, at least large for his age, but Uncle Vernon had said he'd grow into it, which was fine with him to be honest. His uncle had told him it was a Barlow knife; the handle cum casing was made of a dark lacquered wood attached to a silver metal casing. The contrast made the grain in the wood stand out and in the metallic part the initials, H.J.P, had been stamped in boldly. Along one edge he could see the blunt edges of the two folded blades peeking out. He folded out the larger of the two blades before once again admiring the gift. The sharpened edge was mostly straight before halfway to the top it curved gently to end in a pointed tip. The dull edge was straight before halfway to the tip it abruptly turned to meet up with the tip forming something similar to a triangle. As Uncle Vernon had said it was wickedly sharp and he intended to put that to good use. He looked at the book again before finding the fairly simple rune script. He picked up one of the wooden blocks before with utmost concentration he started to scratch the surface with his knife, carving the various runes into the wood. It took him close to an hour before he had copied it all. His arm felt uncomfortably stiff, his palm was sweaty and his wrist would sting when he moved it around but he had a grin on his face.

Looking at the two writings; his was barely legible and recognisable as a copy of the simple script in the book. His carving was crude and seemed to rise and fall due to the differing depths he had gone into the wood. Still he was proud of it. "Hoot." He gave his pet an annoyed look.

"Of course, it's gonna work Hedwig. Runes are all about faith." He smiled before once again going to rummage in the boxes for what he called useless items. He came back with a pair of baby shoes. He was pretty sure Dudley would in no way mind if he used them. He then proceeded to clear some space around the carved wood, placing his books some distance away and moving Hedwig away from the window, much to the bird's protest. He looked at the piece of wood, innocently laying on the bare floor, he was most certainly not going to risk the rug if anything happened. He took a deep breath and approached the wood and grasped it gently. The book had gone in depth about how rune clusters and script were charged; but Hadrian had summed and simplified it to something more eloquent; pour magic into writing. Well Hadrian had no problem with that at all. Poppy, the medical healer who gave him his check-ups, had once told his aunt that Hadrian's magic was very responsive for someone his age. He could attest to that; his magic was always just under the surface, bubbling whenever he was excited, churning when he was angry; it seemed to ebb and flow, following and mimicking his moods. When he got too distressed or excited it would often burst out and cause random accidents. Despite this or perhaps because of this Hadrian had never had a hard time bringing out his magic and this time it was no different. He often found it hard to describe what bringing his magic to the surface felt like to Dudley; the closest he could approximate it to was holding onto warm liquid air, which admittedly made no sense.

With an ease that belied his age Hadrian drew on his magic and directed it into the wood and more importantly runes. He was momentarily surprised by how the runes seemed to feast on his magic. He was just considering abandoning the whole thing when the draw on his magic stopped abruptly. He watched momentarily as an arc of energy sparked across the surface before settling. He could feel an odd pulse from the wood, the sensation was strange because he couldn't feel it with his hands nor could he see it; he just felt it strangely. Still Hadrian felt encouraged and set the block down before walking a short distance away and picking up the shoes. He turned to look at Hedwig who was looking onto the proceedings with a curious eye.

"Let's hope this works. Right girl?" he got an affirmative hoot and steeled himself. He took one shoe, the left one he noted absently, and threw it in a gentle arc towards the wood. As the shoe approached the wood, a spark emanated again and then it happened. He let out a whoop of joy; for there, suspended above the block of wood was the shoe. Suspended perhaps wasn't the best description; the shoe was frozen in place, the heel pointing upwards seemingly trapped before it could turn. There was a complete absence of movement as the book had said. Hadrian smiled as the script did its work; it was called the Absence of Movement cluster. Something fairly simple and rudimentary really; yet it truly showed the wonders of runes. It stopped all movement within a three feet radius of itself, something about absorbing inertia. The script worked best on inanimate objects and small animals as anything bigger could break out.

Feeling bold, Hadrian grabbed the other shoe, winding his arm back he then threw the shoe with all his might towards the block of wood. As expected, once it crossed the perimeter the shoe came to an abrupt stop, frozen in place. Hadrian noticed the wood sparking again but he ignored it in favour of gloating to his pet.

"I told you it would work. A little faith is all you need." Hedwig gave him an impressed look before rolling her eyes. Hadrian huffed, birds weren't even supposed to be able to roll their eyes, it was such a human expression. But as he had come to learn, over the course of his ownership of the bird, Hedwig was far from conventional. Still Hadrian was rather proud of what he had done; he was determined to practice the art everyday now.

"Hoot hoot," he was broken out of his thoughts by the urgent hoots of his companion. He turned to look at her and saw her gazing at his little experiment which was letting out continuous and violent arcs of eldritch energy. The sight filled him with dread and stark realization.

"Oh sh-" he never got to finish the sentence – the room was filled with a blinding light accompanied by a loud bang and suddenly the smell of smoke filled the air.

The first thing that registered in his mind when he finally regained his vision was that staring at support beams was nowhere near as entertaining as looking at clouds. The second was that he was on his back looking up at the ceiling, the third was that apart from looking ruffled, Hedwig was otherwise fine.

"Hoot."

"I'm fine girl, at least I think I am." He pulled himself up rubbing the soreness out of the back of his head; it wasn't as painful as he thought it should be. He looked around and found that everything was more or less intact, nothing was blown apart or on fire. He looked to where the block of wood had been and grimaced. An area of around three feet in radius had been blackened by the explosion – because that's what had happened, his cluster had exploded. The very centre was smoking slightly and there was no sign of the wooden block.

"Auntie is going to kill me." He thought with dread. The loud bang of the attic door meeting wall had him scrambling up, his heart beating a tattoo on his chest. The sound of his heart filled his ears, the blood rushing like a torrent and he could feel his muscles coiling like a spring whilst his magic wound itself around him. There in the doorway, as if summoned by his very thoughts stood his aunt her eyes wide with shock as she took in the room. When her eyes finally came to rest on him shock and worry quickly melted to fury.

"Hadrian James Potter!"

* * *

Hadrian flinched as the Runes textbook slammed loudly on the kitchen counter closer to his head than he would have liked. His aunt was standing in front of him; her arms crossed in front of her, a glower on her face. She had dragged him, by the ear, from the attic before he could even get a word in. He had been ordered to sit and stay in the kitchen while she went to retrieve his books. Dudley had walked in and stopped the moment he saw his younger cousin; he knew something was wrong. Hadrian had been sitting on a stool, his face black with soot, one eyebrow half burnt off and looking utterly terrified and defeated.  
"Well…" his aunt's sickly-sweet voice brought him out of his thoughts, "What do you have to say for yourself young man?" Hadrian looked up at her and was met with expectant eyes; suddenly he found all that excitement he had felt up in the attic absent. A pit had formed in the bottom of his stomach and his throat felt dry and constricted, his eyes stinging. He blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the sting in his eyes; swallowing was doing nothing to open up his throat. Still his aunt wanted an answer, so he just tried to be honest.

"I was just trying to do what the book said…I was just trying to do magic…"

"After I had expressly told you not to?" her voice had gotten steely and Hadrian looked away from her. When she had given him the books, she had stressed over and over again to him about not trying the magic in the books. It was just for him to read; unsupervised magic was dangerous she had told him. He had told her he wouldn't, but he had gotten so excited and had just wanted to try.  
"I-I am sorry…" his voice came out in a stutter, strangled and tremulous; but his aunt was having none of it.  
"Do you even know how dangerous magic is? Of course, you don't. You could have killed yourself and then where would you be, where would your magic be? Nowhere, that's where." All through her tirade, Hadrian's shoulders had been shaking, his head bowed and hands clenched into tight fists on his lap.

"Just because you're smart doesn't mean you know everything. I will not have you chasing some fantasy and getting yourself killed. I will not lose any more family to magic…"

"That's enough Petunia." Vernon's voice boomed across the room silencing everyone. Petunia spun round on her heel, hand raised ready to give her husband a piece of her mind. She found her voice stuck inside her throat at the look Vernon gave her; his eyes were hard and resolute, holding hints of disappointment. Petunia gathered her thoughts and opened her mouth to retort but Vernon cut her off.

"Boys, go to your rooms." His voice came out gruffer than usual but he couldn't be bothered to care. Before the words had even started to echo, Hadrian's chair was scrapping the floor as the young boy leapt off and bounded up the stairs to his room; a sob escaping him despite his best efforts. Dudley seemed to debate with himself for a few moments but a sharp look from his father had him scurrying up the stairs. For a moment the echoes of two doors slamming resounded in the quiet house as the two adults stared at one another. Vernon had his arms folded across his chest, his usually crisp white shirt was ruffled and wrinkled, the top buttons were loose with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his tie undone. He had known his nephew had done something he shouldn't have. The boy was barely holding back his tears, utterly scared as he was; but so was Petunia. Behind all that anger and fury was fear and his wife didn't know how to express it.

"You went too far Pet…" his wife looked up at him sharply, her blue eyes mimicking ice.

"Too far?" her voice was quiet and cool. "Do you even know what he was doing? What could have happened? He could have died Vernon!"

"But he didn't die, apart from a face covered in soot, he is fine, he isn't hurt."

"This time he isn't. But what about the next time he gets too curious for his own good huh? What then Vernon?" She moved to the table and looked at the book there, her face unreadable.

"So, what? Are you going to stop him from performing magic for the rest of his life then? On the off chance that he might get hurt? News flash Pet, kids are curious – too curious for their own good for that matter. Accidents happen, that's life, and it's how they learn their life lessons. Dudley had his accident with the grill last week and you didn't go this far Pet. It's not fair to either of them if you single one of them out."

Petunia picked up the book, _RUNES THE WORD IN MAGIC__, _she read silently and scoffed to herself. Unbidden memories of her younger years came flitting through her head. She and her sister had been close when they were younger; Petunia had adored Lily and Lily had adored her in turn. Her sister had always been the darling of the Evans family; talented, intelligent and vibrant, that had been her sister. There had been times when Petunia had envied her younger sister; but none more so when Petunia found out that she could never be one of the few people with the gift of magic like her sister. It had crushed her; knowing that no matter what she did she could never ever be as special as the younger of the Evans girls. For a brief while she had hated her sister; hated all the attention, all the power that her sister had at her fingertips. It would have driven an irrevocable rift between them had Lily not tried so hard to make things okay. Little Lily; she had done everything she could to share her new and ever – expanding world with her sister. It had certainly helped and while Petunia would from then on feel inferior to her younger sister; she still loved her and no matter what they would always be close.

It was a good dream to have but eventually the Magical world had drawn her sister away. War. How she hated the mere mention of the word. She had begged Lily; begged her not to join, to not fight in a war that was not hers. But her sister was stubborn, her sister cared and they both knew that she would fight; fight till her dying breath. They had broken contact then; Petunia could not bear to see her sister give up everything she knew for a cause, no matter how right it was. Then Hadrian had been born and everything almost went back to normal. But then came the news; her sister was dead and her nephew an orphan. The Magical world had carved its pound of flesh from the Evans family and she was all that was left. She knew deep down that a similar fate awaited her nephew; that magic would whisk him away from her; take away the only reminder of her sister. She would do everything in her power to keep him from those that would seek to put him in an early grave. She spun around and met Vernon's concerned gaze with a hard stare.

"If it keeps him safe, keeps him alive, then yes, I will." Her voice was a mere whisper but there was a strength to it; an undeniable passion. Vernon looked at her and she stared back at him, unwavering and resolute. He gave a long heavy sigh; shaking his head tiredly.

"Sometimes I see that child laugh and I remember his mother…" his face broke into a small nostalgic smile. "It breaks my heart that he won't ever hear Lily laugh or see her smile. But despite all the wrong that was inflicted on him, he has one thing going for him. He has you…" He chuckled tiredly as he looked at his wife's startled face. Petunia made to speak but he cut her off.

"You are great with him; I doubt Lily has any complaints, she'd be proud, I think. He adores you; you know?" He pulled up a chair and sat down facing her. Petunia suddenly found herself feeling small in front of his eyes. Here she was standing over her husband who was sitting and looking up at her and yet she in no way felt that she had the upper hand. Her continued silence did not seem to bother Vernon as he continued, "I remember what Lily was like whenever she performed magic in front of us; I'm sure you remember it better than me. What was it again?" Petunia swallowed the lump that had found itself lodged in her throat.

"Joy…" her voice came out dry and strangled but she continued regardless. "Pure unbridled joy." She gave him a tremulous smile which he responded with his own soft one.  
"She loved magic; it was a part of her, an extension and expression of her. I daresay Hadrian loves it more because it is perhaps the only way he can feel truly close to his mother." Petunia felt shame flood her and she broke her gaze from his.

"You can ban him from performing magic and I'm sure he will listen, somewhat." He gave a crooked smirk at that. Petunia let out a hiccup-more like a cross between a sob and laugh.

"If you do that though, he will grow to resent you Pet, even hate you. Can you handle that Pet? Will you deny him his heritage, a whole part of him or will you help him?" Vernon looked at his wife for the last time but she steadfastly ignored his gaze. He shook his head and got up; he had said his piece; he would leave her to her thoughts. Petunia found her gaze locked onto the Runes book that she had thrown harshly onto the table. She paid no mind to her husband's departure; her mind swirling with thoughts and echoes of the past hour.

* * *

When he opened the door, he found that his expectations hadn't been wrong. The room was dark and as usual surprisingly neat. Hadrian was curled up into a tight little ball, his shoulders moving gently with every intake of breath he took. Anyone else would have assumed the child was fast asleep, but Vernon knew he was not sleeping; he had been too distraught to fall asleep. He had seen Hadrian's shoulders tense when he had walked in. Slowly, as if approaching a young frightened deer, he made his way to the bed and sat down beside his curled form. They stayed like that for a while neither making any effort to engage the other.  
"I'm pretty sure you must be comfortable – being curled up and wound tight like that." His eyes flicked around the room; the light spilling in from the hallway letting him pick up some details. A reading desk with its chair was set against the far wall. Beside the desk was a small bookshelf, it had an eclectic mix of texts; from simple literary works to rudimentary books on science. Hadrian had the tendency to read anything that remotely caught his fancy, regardless of field. Near the door was a wardrobe and beside it was a pile of toys and other bits and pieces. Movement from beside him brought him out of his thoughts. He looked down and found his nephew still curled up but having shifted to something a bit more comfortable.  
"Are you still pretending to be asleep?"

"If it gets you to leave, then yes.' Hadrian couldn't quite pull of the impudent tone, instead his voice came out low and cracked. Vernon sighed; sometimes he wondered where the child ever inherited his stubborn and sometimes rude nature. An image of a dark-haired young man, with flashing hazel eyes and mischievous smirk crossed his mind.  
"I'm not here to chew you out Hadrian, your aunt did enough of that." He saw the boy's shoulders tense before he seemed to deflate. Slowly the dark-haired boy got up and faced his Uncle. Hadrian had always been small for his age – it often worried Petunia – but as he sat on his bed, his legs tucked under him and his giant of an uncle sitting beside him; well he looked tiny.  
'Look at me.' Bloodshot emerald eyes rose up and met a pale blue. Hadrian's face was streaked with tear tracks-a large hand came up to his face and ever so gently wiped away at the moisture.  
'I shouldn't have tried to do magic.'

'No you shouldn't have.' Vernon answered in a matter of fact tone.  
'Do you think auntie is still mad at me? Will she be mad for a while?' Vernon let out a hum; he motioned for Hadrian to sit on his lap. With little hesitation the child did and he found himself encircled by warmth as his uncle's arms secured him.  
'Do you remember what I told you when I gave you your birthday present.' While he could not see his nephew's face, he knew that it was currently scrunched up in both confusion and concentration.

'You told me to always handle it carefully and with respect…' Vernon let out a pleased hum, a rumbling sound that Harry felt against his back.

'What did I say would happen if you did not do those things.'  
'You said I might get hurt-injured.'  
'Good, you remember.' He took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. 'The knife I gave you is a tool; it's meant to help you. Understand?'  
'I think so.' He shifted slightly, burrowing deeper into the warmth of his uncle's embrace.

'Tools are there to help us, to make life easier for us. But,' his voice grew sharper to convey the seriousness of his words.  
'But if you're not careful that tool can hurt you if you don't use it right. Do you understand what I'm saying Hadrian?'

'Yes, uncle Vernon, I understand.' He swallowed thickly; he felt a chill down his spine despite how warm his uncle was.

'Your magic is a gift, a precious and strong gift. It's meant to be used but you must always respect it. Your aunt is mad at you- and will likely remain mad for a while. But that is what people do when they care about someone; that is one of the ways people act when our loved ones get hurt.'  
'Ar-are you mad at me?'  
'I am.' Hadrian tensed but Vernon was quick to reassure him. 'That does not mean that I won't forgive you.' He gave the boy a gentle squeeze to convey his sincerity. 'So will your aunt – you just have to give her time, that's all.' Hadrian gave him a hesitant nod. Vernon motioned for Hadrian to get into bed-he gave a silent chuckle at Hadrian's reluctance to part with his lap, but eventually he had the boy tucked into bed.  
'So remember no magic for a while okay?' Harry gave his uncle a bleary-eyed nod. It had been a rather emotional day and he suddenly found himself without his normally boundless energy.  
'If you're good maybe you can show me what you were trying to do.' Vernon laughed to himself as he saw the rather surprised and excited look on his nephew's face. The boy opened his mouth to say something, but Vernon closed the door leaving the boy to ponder on his uncle's words. Vernon was a firm believer of the carrot and stick method; he just hoped his wife did not feel the need to be irritated.

* * *

Petunia sighed in mild irritation; setting the book down before she brought a hand to rub at her forehead. It had been a week since the whole incident and Petunia found herself feeling rather tired and uncomfortable. Thankfully there had been no need for the magical authorities to get involved; the neighbors had been easy enough to convince on her own. None of them had seen anything other than a flash and heard a bang; it had obviously been fireworks. The Dursley boys were known for being rather rambunctious. The neighbors were hardly an afterthought for Petunia; a rather gullible bunch they were when it came to gossip. No, her concern lay on her household. There had been no incident involving magic for the whole week, not even a whisper of arcane energies in the house. Usually most people would be happy to not have unexplainable accidents happen every few days in their homes. Petunia was not most people-she had grown up in a house where such accidents were fairly common. Lily had enjoyed causing mayhem and Petunia, like the dutiful older sister, often had to cover for her sibling. Barring the years, she had spent without her sister's constant presence Petunia was fairly used to having a magical living with her. Yet suddenly the house felt normal, mundane-it made her uncomfortable, uneasy. Hadrian had inherited his mother's penchant for accidental magic, he had also gained some modicum of control over it, over what he affected. Usually a day did not go by where the two boys did not get into some sort of mischief. Dudley often encouraging his younger cousin. To suddenly have all that disappear was strange, plus Hadrian had taken to helping her more so than usual. It was so obvious that he was trying his best to remain on her good side, perhaps in the hopes that she would give him back the books she had confiscated and locked up.

She glanced down at the book she had been reading, _Magical Fields a Simple Treatise_. It was a book that looked and examined many of the magical fields that were legally practiced. Minerva had sent it over when during their weekly floo calls-she always found the whole sticking your head in a chimney thing hilarious- she had mentioned Hadrian's budding interest in runes. Minerva being ever the educator and being intuitive had sent over a book that would help both her and Hadrian understand the basics of various fields. Petunia was very thankful as the book had confirmed her fears. Runes were a difficult and often dangerous subject; taking years to become proficient in. Runes, from what she had been able to understand, needed skill, patience and intuition; they were like very rewarding puzzles. Hadrian loved puzzles. She knew that he would love this discipline. She looked out the kitchen window into the backyard-Vernon was with the two boys and was showing them how to carve wooden figurines. She knew that this was his way of encouraging Hadrian; the boy had after all carved his first Runic array in a block of wood. Perhaps she should dig up her old calligraphy set, Runes did require a deft hand and expert penmanship.

* * *

**A/N now I know you're probably thinking that the whole runes stuff will just fizzle and not turn out well. But bear with me, i have plans churning in this head of mine. I'm rather ambitious**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

* * *

**GLIMPSES**

* * *

_Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Newton said that you know. He wasn't talking about science – well he was, but more than that, he was talking about life. Even coincidences have consequences…remember that._

_**Xenophilius Lovegood**_

* * *

Vernon rarely attended the many meetings that teachers often called parents to attend. He left that aspect of parenting to his wife, Petunia. That was not to say he did not attend any of the many school activities his son and ward were involved in. Be it sports, drama, festivals and whatever else came up; he attended it all. He just did not like meetings. He hated sitting in the same chair for hours on end, listening to some uninteresting person drone on and on about this and that. He was a hands-on type of man, pure and simple. Yet here he was in a meeting with his wife beside him, and he found himself sitting bolt upright.

It had started out as any other day; his uncle had dropped them off at school with a few minutes to spare. They had classes, which Harry breezed by and Dudley dozed in, which was pretty normal all things considered. It had been going fine until recess. The boys had been given a calligraphy set each, to help them become true penmen. They had been excited of course, but that excitement had slowly dwindled down to nothing; at least for Dudley. Hadrian had recognized this for what it was though, encouragement. After his debacle with the runes, his aunt had been strict with him. He had tried his best to be on his best behavior and had wrestled with controlling his usually uncontrollable bursts of accidental magic. It had paid off it seemed. Rune-craft required deft steady hands and excellent penmanship. Hadrian could see where his aunt was going with this; practice and get better and then you just might get your book back. He had taken to practicing at every available opportunity, enjoying how his little hands could write something so beautifully. Practice for him meant during recess too. He would often scarf down his food and find a quiet corner in the schoolyard and work on his calligraphy. Dudley's friends, (well his too but that was taking a while to get used to), had at first given him curious looks the first day he had taken out his set. But they had gotten used to Hadrian being weird and so had left him to his devices. The same could not be said for others.

Hadrian had a sort of admirer, something Dudley enjoyed teasing him about. Andrew Davidson was tall for his age, bright brown eyes, auburn hair and a smattering of freckles on his face. At first glance he was an okay kid, smart and attentive in class. Lots of friends and did not cause the teachers any trouble. Yet for a reason that Harry could not decipher; Andy, as he was called by friends, was very interested in the brunette. Hadrian had on random occasions felt a sort of soft prickling at the back of his neck; his hair there standing on end. Every time he had looked around there was Andy staring at him with the most intense look on his face. It had made Hadrian self-conscious for a while, but as Andy kept his distance; Hadrian finally decided to not care about it so much. So here he was sitting on his spot; under the shade of the tree working on his calligraphy. The sounds of the playground were strangely soothing, being in the background. He had all his considerable attention on his work; the book of text he was trying to copy was on the grass while a notepad was balanced on his thigh. Slowly, almost gingerly he traced the pen onto his pad; trying his best to make the simple words flow beautifully like in the book. He was so engrossed with what he was doing that he never heard the footsteps drawing closer. He became aware of his company when his book was snatched from his lap.  
"Is this it?" Hadrian looked up sharply; his body lurched forward, hand snapping out. The book was quickly moved out of the way and his fingers merely brushed past the pages. Hadrian sprang to his feet, his face flushing with irritation.

"Give that back Davidson, tisn't yours." He moved forward but was pushed back and found himself on the ground. A weasel like face, long and clever loomed above him. Piers Polkiss gave the downed Hadrian a smug grin, his teeth flashing. Hadrian got up warily, eyeing his two assailants. Andy was busy going through his book; uncaring of how he ripped some of the pages.  
"Stop that, you're ruining it." Hadrian pleaded but Andy ignored him, his search becoming frantic. Desperate, Hadrian jumped forward; his speed caught Piers by surprise and Hadrian got past him. Andrew despite his frantic search had been paying attention. He raised the book above his head and raised an arm to block the younger boy. Hadrian tackled him and the two rolled onto the ground. Colors blurred together for a moment and Hadrian lost his sense of up or down. Suddenly with a heavy smack at the back of his head the world righted itself. Except he was on the ground and there was a weight pressing onto his chest. He could feel his arms pulled tight; stretched to his sides. Warm air, smelling of sweets and apples, was blowing harshly onto his face. Andrew loomed above him; his body pinning his much smaller one to the ground. Shadows cast Andrew's face into sharp relief, twisting his features and his eyes gleaming and frantic, darted around, taking in the details of Hadrian's face.  
"You're him. That's the scar. I know it…"  
"Get off me! Get off…" Hadrian squirmed and twisted but he was in a vice grip. There was no escape and suddenly he was afraid. He didn't understand what was happening.  
"Tell me how you do it. Show me how." He looked mad; his eyes gleaming with emotions that Hadrian could not even begin to understand. It terrified him and he could feel his power, his magic, bubbling under the surface. Raging, twisting, coiling into a tight ball that wanted to blow everything apart. Suddenly Hadrian could hear shouts and running feet. He moved his head sideways and managed a glance. They were surrounded by a loose circle; jostling and pushing, everyone was watching them and nobody was moving forward to help. He could not see Dudley or any familiar face.

"Look..." he swallowed. His throat had gone dry. He could feel the ball in his chest get tighter and he tried his best to reign it in.

"Let me go and we can talk…" The hands on his wrists tightened and he whimpered.  
"You're lying. Just like them. Show me…" Andrew brought his face much closer and Hadrian noted absentmindedly that his eyes were not brown but hazel with flecks of green in them. He felt sweat trailing down his neck and suppressed a shiver. The ball tightened and his body, despite the added weight, trembled. It was getting hard to breath, there was a pounding in his ears, a deep rushing sound. His vision was narrowing, the edges becoming blurry and dark and yet at the center of his vision were those gleaming mad hazel eyes.  
"Show me how to be like you..." Hadrian heard shouting from beyond his vision. Andy brought his mouth right beside Hadrian's ear, "Show me magic…"

BANG! Light, bright and searing burst out of him with a sound reminiscent of a shotgun. He heard people shout and scream, scrambling back in panic. Above him Andy let out a scream, painful and shrill, and was thrown off him. Suddenly like it began the light was gone and Hadrian could breathe. His vision was swimming; spots of yellow blurring everything. He felt tired and drained. Suddenly a face was there. Who was this? Tousled blond hair, flushed face and blue eyes. Dudley?  
"Dudley..." he gasped out. Forming the words taxed him and he felt his eyes droop.

"Harry, you alright?" His throat, felt dry and scratched. Beyond that though he just felt so….  
"Tired…" his vision went black.

* * *

"We are going to have to suspend both of them…" Vernon let out an irritated noise at the back of his throat.  
"But Hadrian was only defending himself, you said so yourself." Petunia angrily brought her hand down on the desk, rattling it. The Headmistress jumped in her seat, never having expected such behavior from the usually mild-mannered woman. Petunia felt a thrill go through her at the sight. Taking a moment to compose herself, the Headmistress proceeded to explain in a calm manner.  
"Yes and that is why it will only be for a week. Look at it this way; if he's left unpunished it would appear as if we condoned his actions; we condone violence…"  
"So you would have rather he not defend himself?"  
"Not at all – but he broke Mr. Davidson's arm and gave him a bad burn, second degree, on his chest, neck and face..." she ignored Petunia's muttering that sounded suspiciously like, _the little punk probably deserved it._ "He was in possession of prohibited items; fireworks of all things…" she trailed off as she looked at the sheet of paper before her; a report from one of the teachers. Petunia shared a glance with her husband. His brow was furrowed as he thought for a few moments before he nodded. He had been under the impression that he had found all of Dudley's fireworks. He said so to the harried looking woman in front of him and the woman gave him a mild glare. He shrugged apologetically.  
"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley; Hadrian is a wonderful child; brilliant in many ways. This is all a matter of circumstance. Please don't take this as punishment but as time for him to cope; he is shaken by what happened." Petunia made to speak but Vernon cut her off.  
"Thank you for your time madam," he stood forcing her to do the same. The two shook hands. "We'll be going to collect the boys now if that's not too much trouble?"  
"That is acceptable. Mrs. Dursley." Petunia gave the woman a curt nod before following her husband out.

The ride home was undertaken in silence. Vernon forced himself to concentrate on driving; Petunia was sending furtive glances to the back seat, wringing her arms in worry, lips pursed. Dudley was sulking while Hadrian seemed lost to the world; his fingers absentmindedly tracing the bandages around his wrists. He still felt tired, more tired than he could remember ever being. When they got home the family sat themselves in the living room and haltingly Hadrian told them what had happened. They listened in silence before one startling detail presented itself.  
"Wait you said he knew? Knows that you have magic?"  
"Yes. He said I had the scar and – and magic."  
"But how could he possibly know that you had…." her words trailed off as she looked at her nephew appraisingly. "Have you had bursts, accidents at school in the past few weeks." Hadrian squirmed under her gaze before he looked away.

"Maybe a few." He muttered causing Petunia to sigh exasperatedly. She got up and quickly engulfed him in a hug. She squeezed him gently, "I'm not mad honey, okay?" Hadrian nodded furtively and she smiled at him. She turned to her husband.

"I'm going to call Minerva; damage control." He nodded at her as she left the house. Petunia made her way with purpose; crossing the street and going a house down. She knocked briskly; three sharp knocks, and waited. She heard muted shuffling inside and soon the door was yanked open. Two blurs, furred and hissing, sped out past her legs and into the surrounding hedges. She paid the animals no mind, rather used to them.  
"Petunia, I wasn't expecting you today." Petunia grimaced slightly; she felt guilty yet did not know why. She and the older woman weren't exactly friends. Arabella Figg, had moved into the neighborhood soon after Hadrian came to live with them. To the casual observer it was mere coincidence and meant very little. The casual observer would as usual be wrong. Arabella was there on assignment from Albus. Another layer of protection and help he had said. Minerva had many duties and could not be expected to come at every little whim. Arabella was there for when Petunia needed to contact the magical community; when she had an emergency. This certainly classed as an emergency in her book.

"Arabella, I need to make a call…"

Amelia Bones sighed for what was probably the hundredth time that day. She had had a long week. A tip had led them to an underground drug ring and the ensuing chaos had been a headache to deal with. She and a group of her veteran Aurors had raided the premises. Illegal potions and other substances had just been the beginning; endangered creatures, dangerous creatures, and dark artifacts. It had been a nightmare clearing out the place; the owners had been paranoid bastards, traps layered upon one another, curses and jinxes. Five of her team had to be treated at St. Mungos. She was just thankful that nobody had died and that there had been no civilian casualties. The media would have had a field day if that had happened. Sadly, her victory had a sour under taste to it. The evidence that her Aurors had gathered implicated quite a number of influential people. She had been pleased at this until the Minister had gotten wind of it. How he had learnt of the contents of an ongoing investigation was something that implied dangerous things. She hated having leaks in her department. The minister, Fudge, newly elected had come to her and had casually asked that she drop some of her allegations. Allegations she had yet to even make. The cases she needed to make would never get to the court unless the minister was on her side or she gathered so much evidence as to force his hand.

Then Minerva had decided to grace her office. They were friends of a sorts but the moment she saw the look on the world-renowned Professor's face she got the impression that this was not a social visit. She was right, it had not been anything social; Minerva was here to collect favors. A favor she, Amelia, owed Albus Dumbledore. It had not been easy getting details out of the older witch but she had managed some. Hadrian James Potter had had a massive burst of accidental magic; there had been witnesses. Amelia knew what was being asked of her; discretion, utter discretion. The boy was a target any Dark Wizard or Witch would love a shot at. Years ago, after the Dark Lord's defeat Albus had approached her, he had been forthright with her, telling her that the boy was hidden. What she did not know was where. Now she did and she had honestly been surprised. Surrey? Of all the places she might have looked; Surrey had never even entered her thoughts. She could honestly appreciate the ingenuity behind it all. Obviously, it would have been ideal if she could have gone and dealt with this herself but that was not possible. Gone were the days when she could go out in the field when she felt like it. She was no longer a senior Captain in the force; she was the Head of the entire department. While the position came with many perks; it also came with downsides. She could not just leave; well she could. She answered only to the minister after all. Her absence though, if she chose to leave would be noted. Her sudden absence during a big case would be considered strange after all. Luckily this new headache was easily solved; she had someone who she could delegate this all to.

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood in the center of the street. He would have looked quite unusual had anyone actually been able to pay enough attention to actually see him. He wore dark clothes; the pants and tunic had strips of dark scaly leather covering his vital areas. Despite being two parts of the outfit, it seemed seamless. Over this he wore something that was a cross between a robe and cloak. It was a dark navy blue with a hood. It came down to just below his knees and was open at the front. Kingsley was a powerfully built tall black man. His head was shaved bald and he had sharp intelligent eyes. Those same eyes were currently focused on the mundane neighborhood in front of him. Perhaps it was better to say that his eyes were looking at something above the community.  
_'There is powerful magic here.'_ He mused to himself. Part of his training had involved taking his senses, both physical and magical to their peak. This had been further refined by years of dangerous assignments. He was by no means the best at sensing powerful enchantments but he was adequate, above average. To his senses this place sang of powerful wards. He was standing right at their edge yet he could feel them scanning him, judging him. The area these wards covered more than anything told him that a very powerful wizard had erected them; maintaining them was surely not an easy task.  
_'I wonder how Dumbledore managed to hide these from the scanners?'_ He shook his head to dispel that thought; that was not his assignment. His assignment while tedious, had not been as difficult as he had anticipated. The files at the school reported the same thing; the magic had been explained away as fireworks. _'How convenient and gullible'_ Nobody had seen anything worthwhile or too closely. The children had been a big help; the story had gotten so distorted that it was barely recognizable. The only issue had arisen when he had visited the family of Andrew Davidson once called Atticus Rosier. The boy had been a squib and had been discarded by the family. Sent to live with a distant aunt who was also a squib. Kingsley only had to look at this one case to know how distasteful the practice of some families was. The boy had been crushed, devastated and depressed. The fact that he had latched onto the first sign of magic he had glimpsed had not been a surprise. The surprise had been just who the unfortunate soul had been.

Kingsley shook his head in distaste. Being a meticulous man and remembering how much his boss had emphasized subtlety and discretion, he had made sure that any school files would never be looked at twice. Most in his position would have settled for sampling vanishing the files and reports but he was going for subtle. A few charms and some anchoring runes, scratched into folders to make them last, ensured that nobody would think twice about the files gathering dust in the corner. After he had wrapped up his questions, he had encouraged the couple to possibly relocate. He hoped they took his advice. He felt something approaching pity for the boy, the burst of magic had left its mark. Kingsley wasn't sure if the burn paste he had left them would do much to help. With a final glance at the sight before him he twisted on the spot and with a soft crack disappeared.

* * *

Her breath came in sharp painful gasps, the necessary action bringing a stabbing pain in her side. Her hair was matted down to her forehead with sweat, leaves and twigs were caught in the tresses. Every hurried step caused pain to lance up her right leg; she had twisted her ankle a few miles back. She should have stopped, to assess her injured side but she could not stop. She had to keep moving, until she was far away. Far away enough to be safe. Safe. That word sounded so strange these days, so foreign. Once she had been safe and happy. But everything had changed. Here she was running in woods she didn't know. She could hear her pursuers behind her, beyond her vision. But she knew they were there; just as they had all those times she had slowed down to rest.

Mama had told her to run, to head east, to go to safety. Those had been her last words. Her screams had followed her out. Her blood had painted the floor; a river of bright crimson. Her eyes blurred with fresh tears. She did not see the root jutting out of the ground. She gasped as her foot got caught. For a brief moment she was suspended in the air; arms thrown in front of her, eyes wide. Then time reasserted itself and she felt the world rush towards her. She tumbled hard; rolling onto the damp rocky ground until with a splash she found herself surrounded by water. Cold. Her senses fled her and all she could feel was water, rushing and pulling her down. Her lungs burned and water rushed into her, she thrashed blindly, searching. There! Something solid – hope. Desperately she pushed off and hopefully up, and then she broke the surface. Air. She gasped and coughed. A heady feeling overtook her and she greedily took in large gulps of air as she crawled to the bank of what she found was a large stream. She rolled onto her back, gasping. For what felt like an eternity she lay there, watching her breath mist over against the background, a cold blue sky. It would be another cold night. Her clothes were wet and she could not possibly light a fire, that would be foolish in the extreme. She heard a twig snap and her fragile reality came rushing back. She quickly turned her head to look; a painful throb lanced across her temple. Instinctively her hand came up to feel her temple. She let out a painful hiss and her hand came away wet and sticky with blood. She felt tears prick her eyes and a lump lodge itself in her throat. She blinked furiously; she would not cry, not anymore. She took deep steady breathes, calming herself. Once she felt her bubbling emotions subside, she took stock of her surroundings. She looked at the other side of the bank and was greeted with a normal woodland scene. Nothing was out of the ordinary except herself. Yet she still felt tense, her body's instincts refusing to let her relax. She got up, groaning as both her side and leg throbbed. Still she gritted her teeth and with a monumental effort got up to her feet. She immediately felt light headed, she swayed dangerously. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to still. Taking a deep breath, she took a step forward. Pain. She stumbled, almost falling to her knees, but she kept going. Her pace was slow, slower than she would have liked but at least she was still moving and that counted for something. She slowly and carefully limped her way into the woods. Every step was agony, sending a jolt up her leg and into her side. She could feel her broken ribs scraping against one another. Her lungs struggling to get air. Her vision was getting hazy, the edges becoming blurry and unfocused. She could only concentrate on what was right in front of her. _Left right, left right_, she chanted the mantra in her head. A few meters in; she could go no further and collapsed._ "Maybe I can just rest here for a little while, just a little while."_ Her eyes had barely closed before they snapped open again. A flutter of wings announced her guest. There, on a branch above her was an owl; snow white with flecks of black here and there. Curious amber eyes observed her. _"Stupid bird. Aren't owls supposed to be silent?"_ She ignored the owl and closed her eyes. Soon she heard the owl leave and for a while she was content.

When she next woke up it was to the sound of voices. Panicking she scrambled up. Pain, she let out a cry. Quickly she stuffed her fist into her mouth, muffling her cries. Her teeth broke the skin of her hand. This pain she welcomed; it cleared her mind. She stopped moving and listened, her senses on high alert.  
"You better not be tricking me again…" the voice was young. A child, preteen and male. She could hear his footfalls, soft and sure. He was alone. The thought sent a rush of adrenaline through her. The pain in her side and leg dulled and was replaced by a new kind of pain. Her throat felt dry and her stomach felt empty, painfully empty. The hunger she had ignored for days came crashing at her all at once. She felt herself tense, her mind grew foggy with lust. All her senses trained onto the spot she knew he would soon burst from. The snapping of twigs announced his arrival. Pushing aside some vegetation he stepped into the little clearing. He was wearing dark jeans, a grey t-shirt with a jacket over it. His feet were covered in tough looking shoes. Clothes perfectly suited for a day out in the woods. All these details meant nothing to her. Her eyes locked in on his neck and there she saw his vein pulse, a healthy pulse. She lunged; her injuries overridden by the sudden surge of adrenaline. Her fangs extended and her nails growing quickly into claws. She saw the moment he noticed her. There was no fear in his eyes, just utter surprise. His eyes widened and he gasped, his muscles tensed. Inwardly she smiled, there was no escape. Danger! Move! Move! Her instincts screamed at her. Her clawed fingers were mere inches away from his face. It was too late. Power slammed into her. Her body was thrown end over end, only to stop when she slammed painfully into a tree. Her breath was knocked out her. She heard a crack, was that the tree or her spine. Her breath came back to her and she let out a gasp of pain. Her back spasmed, muscles clenching involuntarily from the pain. Bloodlust left her in the wake of her pain; bringing with it a sharp clarity. Her eyes, clenched shut, snapped open to find her attacker. He had not moved. His stance told her of his wariness and discomfort. But he had not fled. His eyes were trained on her, fearful of course but also with a strange morbid interest.

White filled her vision for a moment before she felt a weight settle on her knee. The owl, her eyes widened in realization. She made to get up but the pressure on her knee became painful. The bird's claws had dug into her jeans and were pricking her flesh. A wave of cold washed over her and she watched in surprise as her breath fogged in front of her face. She looked up and met striking amber eyes; she let out a shiver.  
"You're a vampire." The boy had managed to come closer without her noticing. How he managed that was beyond her. She found her senses suddenly assaulted with his presence. The child reeked of magic as did his pet bird. She felt her panic rise; after all she had been through, no child was going to best her. She tried to stand and found herself incapable of moving. All she could do was move her head. The bird had done something to her. She looked up at her captor. She bared her teeth at him, a hiss of rage escaping her. Her sharp elongated canines were stained with her blood.  
"Witch-boy!" Her words were filled with venom and contempt. The child flinched, his face coloring. She bared her bloody teeth in a savage grin, reveling in the little pain she caused him.  
"I'm not a girl!" he gasped out outraged. She blinked, bemused.  
"What?"  
"I'm a boy, that makes me a wizard. Get your facts right lady." She spluttered in anger, her face going red. "You-you insolent brat! I should gut you."  
"You already tried that, remember? I threw you against the tree." He gave her a superior smirk. She growled deep in her throat. He took an involuntary step back. She smirked at him.  
"Why did you attack me anyway?" Her smirk disappeared and she glared at him. He paid her no mind though. His eyes, green she noted, were scanning her. She found his gaze discomfiting; no child should look at someone like that.  
"You're hurt."  
"No shit Sherlock." He frowned at her, his nose scrunching up.

"Swearing won't help," he scratched the back of his head in thought. "At least that's what auntie says." She gave him an incredulous look and he blushed.  
"Anyway, you should stay here. Not that you have another choice…" he let out a chuckle. "I'll go get help okay?" he turned to leave.

"Wait…" He turned and looked at her, his eyebrows touching his hairline. "Why?" _Why help me when I nearly killed you?_ Her eyes demanded.  
"Cause you need it." He shrugged carelessly. Before she could think of something to say – anything, he took off running.

She let out a tired breath before she clenched her eyes in pain. Breathing deeply hurt her lungs. She opened her eyes and connected with amber eyes. She glared at the smug looking avian.  
"This is all your doing." The bird let out a bark before gracefully jumping into the air. A few lazy flaps had the bird over a branch and it alighted. Thinking she was free, she tried to move but found that she still could not even twitch. "How?" a bark made her look up at the bird. Her avian guardian seemed to be looking at the ground in front her. She flicked her eyes down and saw a stone. Smooth and polished, the dark oval stone could fit comfortably in the palm of her hand. Its surface was broken up by carving, archaic writing that she recognized. Runes. The script flowed over the stone, covering it in a delicate embrace. She did not recognize the language but she could discern its purpose; to keep her where she was. She let out a helpless chuckle. She had not consumed any food for days, neither had she fed in those days. Day and night, she had been running, barely resting. Keeping just ahead of her pursuers only to find herself captured in this forest. By a child no less. A boy who could be no older than ten. A child who it seemed was powerful enough to throw her around like a ragdoll. A child who knew how to use Rune-script. She felt so useless. Her mother had sacrificed herself so that she could have a chance at life. Yet her she was frozen by unseen bonds against a tree.

The snapping of twigs underfoot jolted her out of her thoughts. She looked up. A woman, blond, slim and pretty stood a few meters from her. A first aid kit was clutched at her heaving chest. Her eyes seemed to look her over, jumping all around before they settled over her face. The woman's face seemed to harden before she took a step towards the downed girl. A large hand stopped her.  
"Petunia…."  
"Vernon, she's a child." She glanced back at her husband who was looking at the girl who was pressed against a tree awkwardly. She looked to be only a few years older than the boys. Her clothes were bloody and torn in several places, bruises visible on her pale skin. She was barefoot and one of her ankles was swollen. Her face and arms had scratches and there seemed to be a sizable gash on her forehead.  
"That doesn't make her any less dangerous though." His eyes were full of distrust, his instincts warring with his compassion. Reluctantly he let go of his wife. Petunia gave him a nod before quickly walking to the girl. She knelt down and quickly rummaged through the first aid kit.  
"What's your name sweetie?" the woman offered her a warm and gentle smile. Her hands were deftly working on the gash on her head. Using a canteen to pour water on the wound and dabbing at it with a cloth. The girl let out a sharp hiss of pain.  
"Sorry." The woman's tone was apologetic even as she dabbed harder.  
"Se-Selene," she glanced over the woman's shoulder. The man was hovering over them, his eyes trained solely on her. For the first time she noticed the rifle in his hand. She knew he would not hesitate to use it. "My name is Selene." The woman had moved to her ankle now. She was running her index finger very lightly over the joint. Selene shivered. The woman sent her an apologetic look.  
"I'm Petunia and that's my husband Vernon," she took out a long strip of bandage, before she pressed something cool against her ankle. Selene let out a sigh at the sensation.  
"Vernon, help me with this." The man, Vernon, was suddenly there. He took the bandage and quickly wrapped it around her ankle. If it was a tad too tight nobody mentioned a thing.  
"Okay, now we are going to try to move you okay?" Petunia's voice was gentle and kind. Selene found herself wanting to trust this woman. She gave her a hesitant nod.  
"Can we move her Harry?"  
"Yea the stone ran out of power a few minutes ago." His voice startled her and she looked at him. He was stood off to the side looking on. Beside him was a taller boy, blond and thicker. She felt large arms go around her. She cried out in pain as her ribs were jostled.  
"Sorry." His voice was gruff but soft. Gently the large man lifted her up and ensconced her against his chest. He felt warm and suddenly Selene felt tired, so very tired. Her eyelids of their own accord fell heavy over her eyes and she succumbed to blissful unconsciousness.

When she next woke, she was much more comfortable. Wakefulness for the first time in weeks did not come with a jolt of panic. Instead she felt like her mind was full of cotton, heavy and sluggish. Her limbs feel stiff. Her first sensation was soft; she was lying on something soft and it smelt of lavender. She felt a breeze on her cheek, soft and gentle, bringing in the sounds and smells of outside. Fresh cut grass and roses dominated her senses. Yet something lingered on the edge of her perception, it was not a threat but it demanded her attention. She strained her senses and listened; lub-DUB, lub-DUB. The person's heartbeat was calm, serenely so. She felt tired though and she was so comfortable. She fell asleep again, the heartbeat lulling her to sleep. Finally having a chance to recuperate and rest her body's naturally impressive healing goes to work. Her healing is further accelerated by the various medicines that are administered to her. In her deep regenerative slumber, she is helpless and unaware; she does not see the visitor that comes by every day, nor his hesitant smile.

It is afternoon when she next wakes. Golden light spills into the room, falling onto the bed she's on. Her lids crack open and for a moment the light is too much for her. Her vision swims for a moment before with a deep breath she gains clarity. Colors coalesce into proper shape and focus. She's in a room, the walls are painted a pale blue. To her left is a window, it's open letting the breeze flutter the curtains. She can hear sounds from outside, strangely muted. She hesitantly pulls the covers off of her and lets out a relieved sigh. She's been dressed in a faded blue t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. She hesitantly lifts her arms and marvels at the unblemished skin there. She had not expected that; her powerful healing relied upon her having fed. Something she had not done in weeks. Swinging her feet, she made to get up. Wobbling on her feet for a bit, she spread her arms seeking balance. Giving the room one last glance she headed for the door. Her steps slow but full of determination. She opens the door and is relieved not to hear it creek; the owners of this house must do maintenance often. She finds herself in a corridor, doors on either side of her along its length. Sound, voices drifted up to her from her right. She followed the sound. As she quietly made her way down the corridor she could not help but glance at the walls. Pictures hung along its length; a family of four out having ice cream. Two young boys covered in mud; a birthday party, a trip to the zoo, the man buried in the sand at the beach. It painted a clear picture for her. She felt her heart clench as she remembered her own mother. Tears prickled her eyes and she roughly scrubbed her eyes. Taking a deep calming breath, she made her way down the stairs. She could start to distinguish the different voices. Two male and two females.

Dredging up all memories of her training she walked lightly and quietly on the steps. Carefully masking her presence.  
"Ah, it seems she has awoken." She froze. The voices cut off and she knew that she had been discovered. She could try to run, to leave this place. But that plan carried a lot of risk. She was not yet back to full strength and she was clearly outnumbered. Despite her wariness though she knew that these people would not have bothered to heal her if they meant her harm. Making her decision, she straightened her back and proudly made her way all the way down the steps. Four pairs of eyes meet her and she resisted the urge to fidget. She recognized the woman who had helped her in the woods, Petunia, who gave her a gentle smile. The other woman, dark haired with pale blue eyes looked at her neutrally; she wore dark green robes identifying her as a witch. The first male was short, his skin waxy and leathery. His nose was long and hooked, his ears were long and pointed and his fingers long. His mouth was pulled in a toothy grin, showing off his sharp teeth. A goblin. The other man made her eyes widen, for she recognized him. Old, with silver grey hair and long beard, perched on his very crooked nose were half-moon glasses that hid bright blue eyes. Nearly everyone knew who this man was. What filled her with dread was how on earth she had attracted his attention.  
"Ah miss we have much to discuss. Please sit." He gave her a grandfatherly smile and she found herself obeying.

* * *

The sky was a blend of deep purples and orange, and the shadows grew long and dark. His steps quick and silent, he slinked unseen, darting from one shadow to the next. The park was on the edge of the neighborhood, its trees blending into the outlying forest. It was here that the specter made its way to. For a moment he stopped at the edge of the woods, his eyes panned out to his surroundings. Finding nothing he darted into the shadow of the wood, his form blending into the shadows. Minutes later he came to a small clearing and stopped.  
"Well?" he spun round searching for the voice. There among the shadows a pair of bright luminescent blue eyes observed him. Relaxing his tense shoulders, he let out a frustrated sigh.  
"The wards cover a vast portion of the neighborhood, I was unable to truly discern their purpose, but they are powerful…"  
"Blood-wards often are. Some little wizard went to great lengths to protect something here." The speaker stepped out of the shadows. He was quite tall, with a lithe build. The dark clothes he had on made his pale skin look more so. His face was framed by dark red hair that contrasted well with his glowing blue eyes. He had a long nose set above thin lips, his sunken cheeks giving his cheek bones prominence.  
"Were you able to get any information on the girl's unexpected hosts, Isaac?"  
"Yes. A family of four; husband and wife with two children, both boys, aged between ten and twelve. The smaller child's scent carries magic."  
"I imagine that's who the wards are for then?" Isaac made a noncommittal grunt, shrugging. It seemed rather obvious considering he was the only one who smelt of power. The rest of the family were mundane.  
"It is strange though is it not?"  
"What is?" Isaac looked up to see his superior with a frown marring his features.  
"It is not often that a wizard child is left in the care of mundanes. Curious."  
"You know I've never been one to speculate." Isaac leaned against a tree. He turned his neck this way and that trying to get rid of a crink.  
"Anything else you observed?" he noticed that Isaac gave a grimace.  
"I spotted a witch and goblin leave…"  
"That is troublesome." He mulled it over in his head. Goblins were known for their shrewdness in business. They were notorious for getting things done, be it legal or not so legal. The goblin's presence suggested that the girl would not be staying long. Most likely he was making travelling arrangements for her. This mundane family had connections.  
"I think we should try and take her. She and the boy spend time outside, unobserved. We could easily…"  
"No. We wait." He raised a hand up noticing his companions' protests before they started.  
"You are young Isaac and do not yet understand some things. We cannot get to the girl, so long as she remains in that house, she is beyond us. Any attempt on our part to assault the building will have the wards react. Blood wards are dangerous; their restriction by the government is well deserved, I assure you." Isaac mulled over his superior's words before nodding in defeat.  
"So what do you propose we do?"  
"Our best option is to figure out where the goblin intends for the girl to go, which means getting our own goblin."  
"I've never liked dealing with goblins." Isaac said with a pained face, his left hand traced a scar on his right wrist.  
"Don't worry, we don't have to meet our goblin associate just yet." Isaac looked up at him curious noticing the older man's smirk.  
"We have to inform the boss first, don't we?" His response was a sharp nod. He let out a frustrated sound. "He is not gonna like recent developments." The two started heading deeper into the forest.  
"No he will not indeed." The two men's forms disappeared into the shadows. In a house that looked eerily similar to all the other houses on the block a dark-haired girl slept. Unaware of the machinations taking place in the shadows.

* * *

When she had ran in terror from her home, Selene had not expected to be here. Here being a kitchen in a house located in some suburb. She watched as the blonde-haired lady, Petunia, puttered about the kitchen. The woman had been kind to her, even after she had learnt about what she was. The whole family had been kind; even the man, Vernon. He had been wary of her those first few days. His eyes never really leaving her form for long. It should have bothered her, the way he looked at her. Like she was some dangerous beast living among them. But the truth was that she was dangerous. Eventually though the looks had faded somewhat. He was still cautious about her but it was with a lot less hostility. The older boy Dudley, seemed to find the whole situation exciting. She got a headache just thinking about all the questions she had been peppered with. Hadrian though acted like this was all completely normal, as if there was nothing to worry about. Like this was not the first time they had a creature of the night hiding in their house. She knew wizards were an odd bunch, she just had not expected their oddness to start so early. Still it was Hadrian's attitude that strangely enough made all this bearable.

Even as she watched Petunia measure out some cups of flour, her mind wandered. She was not ungrateful to the Dursley family for taking her in. She was in their debt; a debt she knew she might never be able to pay. They had taken a huge risk with her. Taking in a complete stranger into one's home was always risky; and that was before you complicated matters with her unique circumstances. She was gravely injured, had people pursuing her and she had attacked their child. Even forgetting that her species often ate humans for breakfast, lunch and supper; they had taken her in. She could not understand why. Her only theory was that, these people were just that decent. So here she was in their house, safe.

Safe. That word, idea, had become so alien to her in the past few weeks, yet this was the safest she had felt since she fled her home. A mere week ago she would not have believed that a house owned by mundanes would be safe for her. But after she had gained enough energy to do so, she had spread her senses outward. She had been shocked. The entire property, in fact the whole neighborhood was surrounded by powerful magic, a ward. The presence of the ward had led to a plethora of questions. But she had not asked them. How would she even go about it? Asking her hosts how they had such potent protection. She knew though that Hadrian was not the source of it. Yes, he was connected to it in a way but no matter how powerful he felt, something so complicated, so powerful was beyond him. The question she really wanted answered though was simple; who were the Dursleys?  
"Penny for your thoughts?" She almost jumped out of her chair, heart racing. "Oh, dear did I startle you?" Kind blue eyes peered at her from across the kitchen. Selene took a moment to gather her thoughts.  
"I wasn't really thinking about anything in particular?" she cringed at how high and squeaky her voice sounded. _Probably because you know you were thinking about how strange they are_. She ruthlessly stomped on her inner voice. Either Petunia did not notice her strange tone or chose to ignore it.  
"You had the same faraway look Hadrian gets when he's thinking too much." She said with a fond smile.  
"I guess I just have a lot on my mind is all…sorry." She ducked her head. Her hand came up to tuck her hair behind her ear.  
"It's alright. In fact, it is to be expected, given all that's happened to you." Petunia moved toward her, pulling up a chair. She sat down and looked at her. Her eyes were filled with kindness and compassion.  
"Selene, I know that you don't know me well. I could not even begin to understand what you are going through." Petunia brought her hand up and Selene felt her hand being squeezed lightly. It felt warm. She felt her throat constrict. Her eyes suddenly felt hot and moist. She desperately wanted to pull her hand away, but her body refused to comply.  
"But I want you to know that I am here for you. If you need anything, even if it's just to talk. I am here." Selene felt a curious wet sensation on her face. Her hand came up to feel her face, even as something salty touched her lips. Tears. She sniffled. She felt a sob coming up her throat and tried to stop it. She failed. She felt herself drawn forwards before arms circled around her. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled her nose. Another sob escaped her and that was soon followed by another. Her face felt hot, smeared in tears and snot. She pressed it against Petunia's chest. Once her tutors had told her that she needed to be strong. That certain emotions were a sign of weakness, that tears were a weakness. All those lessons meant nothing as she let out a keen. She could hear Petunia muttering sweet nothings in her ear, felt her rub her back gently. The sensations only made her sobs louder. She cried for her home, for her mother, she cried for her lost innocence.

* * *

The oak tree at the back of the estate was massive and old. Caius had once told her that the tree was already old when the estate was originally built. It towered over everything else. Its boughs stretched out to the heavens and its thick roots twisted around the base. The mighty tree was its own little world; a lot of critters called it home. Selene run ahead of her mother; her eyes staring up in wonder at the tree.  
"Don't be in such a hurry my little preciozo, the tree is not going anywhere."  
"But mama, you said I could play with the bowtruckles." The little girl spun around a pout on her face. The older woman let out a throaty chuckle. She shifted the modest wooden basket in her left hand. "You may harass the little creatures after we eat, okay? Come." With her free hand she grasped her daughter's hand and guided her to the tree. There under the cover of branches and between the roots they found a checkered blanket laid out for them. She let out a fond smile, Caius could be thoughtful sometimes. She set the basket down and with deft hands pulled out its contents. Breads, slices of beef, salads, dips, a whole jug of lemonade and finally some buns. A small hand darted out to snatch at one of the sticky glistening buns but she slapped is away.

"Tsk tsk, those are for dessert."  
"But I love those buns, they are so delicious…" Selene tried to snatch one again but her mother brushed her away laughing. "You need to learn to be patient my little preciozo. All good things come in time…" Selene looked at the bun, she wished time could speed up.

"Selene!" She blinked back rapidly, her eyes had gotten misty. She looked up. Hadrian was staring at her, his eyes were clouded with emotion, he was concerned. "You went away for a minute, are you alright?" Selene glanced away, avoiding his eyes. They were in the park; the sound of laughter and the scent of sweet flowers filled the air. Petunia was seated at a park bench a few meters away from them, her head down, engrossed in a novel. Dudley was further away, his father helping him fly his kite. They looked like any family in the park. She had overheard Petunia telling some women, a friend of hers perhaps, that Selene was their niece. The person had bought the lie easily. Selene could of course see why they would think that. While both Petunia and Dudley were blond, Vernon had dark hair that was just a shade lighter than hers. Selene also shared the blue eyes that three of the Dursleys favored. While Hadrian shared quite a bit of his face with Petunia his coloring resembled Selene, both of them rather pale. Selene really could be part of their family-but she was not. She glanced down at her hand, she was holding a sticky, glistening cinnamon bun. Just like the ones her mother made. When she was a child, she had always wanted to rush past things, but now sitting here in this park, she felt a false sense of peace wash over her. She wanted all those rushed moments back, to savor, to enjoy one last time. She felt a lump catch in her throat. She glanced away and was met with emerald eyes, dark with emotion. Before she could say anything, she found a disposable cup shoved under her nose.  
"You should try the juice, it's nice." Hesitantly she accepted the cup, peeking inside she shuddered in relief. It was orange juice, not lemonade. She took a sip. Hadrian was right, the juice was nice.  
"Thank you." Hadrian returned her smile with his own, teeth flashing in the afternoon sun. They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the day. It was nice, Selene thought. She glanced at Hadrian and found him busy with a notebook, his tongue sticking out in concentration. She smirked as an idea popped into her head. With reflexes worthy of her species, she snatched the book away from him. Hadrian let out a strangled gasp of surprise.  
"I was using that." His voice was equal parts annoyed and anxious. His eyes tracking the notebook.  
"Relax, I just want to see what has you so busy, busy enough to not want to enjoy a good day outdoors." She gave him a sideways smirk and he glared back. She laughed at him before going back to the book. It was filled with all sorts of things, numbers, runes and designs to things she could not put heads or tails to. It was intimidating to see a ten-year-old doing this.  
"With all those trophies in your room, one wouldn't expect you to be a little bookworm." She had been in his room enough times to have a proper look at all his awards. Academic, athletic and martial arts. It was a strange combination in her opinion.  
"I didn't manage to pin you against a tree by knowing some Tae-kwe-ndo," he smirked at her scowl. "Plus, there's nothing that says I can't be good at both sports and academics." He shrugged. Selene shook her head, from what she had seen he was a few levels above plain old good.  
"Still it's a beautiful day and the sun feels amazing, you should enjoy it.  
"I thought vampires didn't like sunny days." Hadrian said when she finally gave him back his book. He quickly tucked it away in his bag. Selene let out a snort, before stretching herself languidly, laying her head down on the blanket. Her top rode up and Hadrian got a flash of skin before he looked away.  
"That little old thing isn't a problem for someone like me."  
"Someone like you?" he followed her lead, lying down.  
"Dudley is right, you can be slow sometimes," Hadrian colored slightly. "I am only a half vampire. My dad was a vampire…"  
"Your mom?" Immediately Hadrian knew he had made a mistake. Selene's face darkened, her eyes becoming a dull grey. Her hands were clenched into fists and Hadrian was sure that her claws were extended. He opened his mouth to apologize but she spoke before he could.  
"She was a witch," her voice was quiet and if Hadrian had been even a foot further away, he would not have heard her. "My mother was a witch; she wasn't the most powerful but I think she had the most beautiful voice." Hadrian stayed quiet as Selene got lost in memories. Selene talked for a few minutes, quietly, her voice carrying no further than the two of them. She told him about how her mother would sing in the mornings alongside the birds, she told him about Caius, their manservant, whom a younger Selene used to play hide and seek with. Hadrian listened in rapt attention to all this. "My mother and I, we used to have picnics like this, under a large oak tree in the backyard. She used to make me cinnamon buns, they were my favorite."

"Your mom, she sounds amazing." Hadrian's voice was thick with emotion.  
"Yea, she was." A soft nostalgic smile played on her lips. Hadrian expected the silence that followed to be awkward, but it was not. It turned out to be the opposite. It seemed that a weight had lifted of Selene's shoulders and she felt just a little bit better. The quiet turned out to be comfortable. They watched Dudley run around, pulling his kite this was and that, harassing the other people in the park, with shout of "…death from above."

"So since you're only half vampire, what other vampires are there?" Selene gave Hadrian a sidelong glance. He was lying on his back arms folded and linked behind his head forming a makeshift pillow.  
"You really should read up on our world, it's quite dangerous. Especially for someone like you."  
"Oh is it? What's so special about being an heir to an old family other than the whole inheritance thing?" Selene gave him a bemused look, but he was busy with a butterfly and did not notice. How can he not know? She glanced curiously at Petunia who was still engrossed in her novel.  
"Just read up okay? I promise it will do you some good."  
"Alright. I'm sure it'll beat reading about laws and stuff." He turned to look at her, eyes flashing with interest. "Still better from the source than some dusty book…" he grinned mischievously wriggling his eyebrows. She snorted in amusement. Dredging up her lessons and experiences she proceeded to tell him about her species.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine**

* * *

**YOU'RE WELCOME**

* * *

_In this world there is always danger for those who are afraid of it...  
**George Bernard Shaw**_

* * *

The dingy bar was dark, dirty and filled with smoke. The small round wooden tables were full of customers despite it being early in the evening. Most of the people in the small cramped establishment were wearing hooded cloaks, their faces hidden in shadow. Hushed conversation filled the air, murmurs that carried no meaning to any would be eavesdropper. Isaac scrunched up his nose in disgust – one customer had ordered some heavily undercooked meat and proceeded to devour it, throwing pieces of slimy flesh this way and that. He hated hags - they smelt awful.  
"You really should try not to judge so much. We all have our needs." A barmaid, young, pretty and with a flirtatious smile, came and placed two glasses onto their table. She gave a little wink to Isaac before leaving. He stared after her, watching the sway of her hips. His tongue flicked out, teasing over his exposed sharp canine. With a bit of effort, he dragged his eyes away. His companion gave him an amused smile from behind the glass of his drink.  
"Needs I understand." Isaac held his glass up, swirling it slightly. He watched, fascinated as the crimson liquid swirled and churned inside. Feeling his throat burn with need, he took a large sip, his lips stained red. It tasted coppery and strong, he felt the muscles in his neck unclench. An involuntary sigh escaped him. He glanced at the hag a few tables away – she was licking her fingers, uncaring of the mottled skin or long nails. "Still…" he turned away from her.  
"Fret not then dear boy, our guest it seems has arrived." He gestured towards the door on the far side of the establishment. A small figure had entered, covered in a cloak like most of the other guests. Nobody seemed to pay them any mind as they moved towards the table in the dark corner. With a small grunt the small figured hoisted themselves up the stool and sat. A careless shrug saw the hood fall away to reveal his face. The goblin smiled, sharp teeth glinting even in the poor light. His skin looked like leather and his domed head had tufts of dark grey hair growing at the sides. A slight goatee jutted out of his pointed chin. All in all, Isaac thought he looked positively impish. He was quite small even by goblin standards. But one look into his dark beady eyes told Isaac he was dangerous.  
"Caleb, long time no see. I hope you are well?" his voice was surprisingly soft, almost pleasant. Isaac was not fooled by such a thin veneer.  
"I am quite well, Silvertooth." Caleb nodded to Isaac. "You remember my young associate."  
"Well met Isaac."  
"Silvertooth." Isaac pulled out a dark opaque crystal, cut with so many sides. He placed it at the exact center of the table and muttered a few words under his breath. The crystal pulsed red, sending out a near invisible pulse of energy. The sounds from around them grew muted. Caleb let out a pleased hum. Isaac silently agreed with his mentor. Even with the many privacy wards that had been cast in the room, to their sharp senses it had been hard not to get a headache.  
"Straight to business I see." The goblin brought his hands together, his nails were sharpened into deadly points.  
"Yes, if that's alright with you, old friend." Caleb produced a small pouch from somewhere and let it plop in front of the goblin. Quick as a flash the goblin had opened the bag and pulled out a crystal. It was the size of a chicken egg, oval with many faces. The stone was a pure blood red. The goblin held up the crystal, examining it in the light. He gave the sack a little shake making the contents tinkle. He gave a satisfied hum.  
"Excellent quality as usual. Though I daresay, they are a poor payment for what I have unearthed." Isaac felt a growl escape his throat. Silvertooth quickly held up his hands.  
"Peace my friend, a deal is a deal."  
"Calm down Isaac, such behavior is beneath you." Isaac looked away from the sharp glare Caleb threw at him. Satisfied that things were under control, Caleb gestured for Silvertooth to continue.  
"The girl is gone, she has left this land, I am sure that you already know that." The goblin licked his chapped lips, wishing he had ordered a drink. "What you don't know is who made her arrangements and where she left from or where she is going. I can answer all three questions."  
"Well get on with it then," Isaac was growing impatient. Silvertooth paid him no mind, his eyes firmly on Caleb whose attention he had.  
"The girl was smuggled into a trader ship that was headed for Scandinavia, in the north. Ripclaw, a senior member of Gringotts made the arrangements." The goblin was smirking know, teeth flashing savagely.  
"You've only answered two of the questions there." Isaac grunted out annoyed with the goblin's theatrics. "Where did the girl charter the boat? What port did she leave from?" If at all possible, the goblin's grin grew wider.  
"Potter Cove." Caleb's eyes widened in surprise. "But that's…"  
"Yes, exactly. You my friends have stumbled upon something quite important." Isaac looked between the two of them, confused and quickly growing irritated.  
"What did we stumble on? What's the big deal?"  
"Don't you understand boy? The child you saw, the one who reeked of magic – is one of the most coveted persons in our world."  
"Really? He was just a kid, powerful perhaps but still…" he was startled by the goblin's laugh. It was a rough throaty sound, nothing like a human would produce.  
"Boy you are dimwitted…" Isaac growled, his fangs extending. "But don't you get it boy? That port is in land owned by the Potters, a family that is down to only one member."  
"Wait you mean the boy, but surely it couldn't possibly – Potter is said to be well protected…" he trailed off. The blood wards! He had never seen anything quite like them. He looked at Caleb who seemed to have gotten over his shock and now had an amused smile.  
"…it is certainly ingenious, when you think of it. Everybody expected him to have been secreted away somewhere, abroad even. Nobody in their right mind would have thought to check in Surrey!"  
"How sure are you?" Isaac turned to regard Silvertooth. The goblin sniffed in offense.  
"My information is always legitimate…"  
"The boy has a valid point." Caleb leaned forward slightly, suddenly looking very dangerous, Silvertooth gulped audibly.  
"The Potter lands went into lockdown ever since Grindelwald burnt the place to the ground, only the port was rebuilt. With all the Potters dead, except the young heir, gaining access to even the port is quite difficult. You have to go through the person or in this case the goblin who is in charge of managing the Potter holdings."  
"So you're saying this senior member, Ripclaw, is the Potter account manager?"  
"In simple terms yes." Caleb leaned back in his chair. His finger nail taped the rim of his empty glass, the blood having been drained completely a while ago. Silvertooth had managed to give them a location on the girl, a bit vague perhaps but more than enough to get them back on the girl's trail. This news about Potter though was something wholly unexpected. Silvertooth was not wrong, there were people who would do anything to get their hands on just where the Potter heir was.  
"Silvertooth, I was wondering if you could perhaps arrange a meeting for me, someone with a darker persuasion…" Isaac looked startled. He stared at Caleb, unsure of where this was going. The nasty smile on their goblin associate's face made his insides twist.  
"Surely you don't mean to sell the child out. Caleb…"  
"I intend to do just that. Information is both power and currency in our line of business, always remember that."

* * *

When Hadrian woke up that day, he felt excited and was buzzing with energy. He threw the covers off himself and jumped out of bed. He startled Hedwig, his familiar almost falling off her perch in fright. Hadrian laughed and Hedwig huffed in annoyance, she shook her feathers, covering her master and floor with frost and snow. Hedwig was always so grumpy early in the morning.  
"You know what day it is Hedwig?" Hadrian bounced on the balls of his feet.  
"Hoot." Hedwig jumped from perch to shoulder in one smooth motion. Hadrian with an ease born of extreme familiarity shifted his neck slightly to give his familiar room. Hedwig cooed in her young master's ear and gently nibbled his ear. Hadrian felt her affection spill into him. He smiled and put on his slippers. Master and familiar then went into the kitchen.

Hadrian found his aunt at the stove, making breakfast, she was wearing a simple yellow sundress, the one she liked. She smiled at him when he wandered in. Dudley was sitting at the kitchen table, a portable game device in his hand, making all sorts of noises. Uncle Vernon was nowhere to be seen.  
"Happy birthday Hadrian," Aunt Petunia punctuated the words by kissing his brow. She frowned at him, she brought her arms up and tried out to smooth his ever-messy hair. She only succeeded in making it even messier. She gave up with a huff and pushed him towards the table. Dudley glanced at him when Hadrian sat down at the table. Once Dudley was sure his mother had her back to them, he slid something small, silver and rectangular across the table. Hadrian looked at his cousin surprised. Dudley had a superior smile on his face. "Happy birthday shrimp." Hearing his aunt coming, Hadrian quickly stuffed his unexpected birthday present in the pocket of his morning robe.

His aunt then proceeded to heap both their plates with food; sausages, eggs, toast and pancakes. Usually she would never let them have so much unhealthy things at once, but birthdays were exceptions. Uncle Vernon came shuffling into the room, wearing his large robe and clutching a bundle of letters.  
"Did it come in yet?" Hadrian looked at his uncle eyes shining. Vernon looked at his nephew and let out a chuckle.  
"Good morning to you too," Hadrian felt his ears go red in embarrassment. "Happy birthday Hadrian." He pulled out a thick envelope made out of coarse paper and handed it to the eleven-year-old. Hadrian stared at it in wonderment.

**Mr. H. J. Potter**

**The Second Bedroom on the First floor**

**4 Privet Drive**

**Little Whinging**

**Surrey**

With trembling hands, he turned the envelope over. There was the crest; a lion, an eagle, a snake and a badger surrounding a large H. Hogwarts.  
"Well open it you dummy…"  
"Dudley!" Hadrian paid their voices no mind, his hands already working the paper, pulling out the letter. His letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of books and all necessary equipment.  
Term begins on September 1st. we await your owl no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

"I got in!" Aunt Petunia let out a cheer, Uncle Vernon gave him a large pat on the back. Dudley snorted into his juice.  
"Please, we all knew you'd get in."  
"Dudley, don't ruin his moment…"  
"I should write back – have Hedwig send the letter." Before any of them could say anything else, Hadrian sprinted up the stairs, letter clutched in hand. Petunia picked up the envelope, a shake later and another wad of papers fell out. It was a list of all the equipment he would need. Vernon peeked at the letter other his wife's shoulder and let out a whistle.  
"That's a lot." Petunia nodded in agreement. She did not remember her sister needing all this, but times changed.  
"What the heck is a utility tunic?" Vernon had his brow scrunched up in confusion. Petunia hummed distractedly, her mind on other things. She absentmindedly gave the list to Vernon.  
"Hey Pet, I think I might just get these dragonhide gloves for myself, they sound pretty neat."  
"Yea, you do that dear." She answered automatically, she never noticed her husband beaming. She needed to call Minerva; it was time Hadrian learned a few things. She glanced at her boys, Hadrian was back and talking animatedly to his cousin. She felt something heavy settle in the pit of her stomach. Things were changing so fast.

It was two days after Hadrian's birthday, two days after he got his Hogwarts letter. While the initial excitement had worn down, Hadrian was still feeling the buzz. That was why he had barely thought much of his Aunt's suggestion that he accompany her to London. The drive had been pleasant, conversation light and happy. Hadrian was distracted, regaling his Aunt about all the things he had read about the school. She had indulged him of course, seemingly excited for him. He never noticed how her smile seemed to struggle to reach her eyes sometimes, or how her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He never noticed how she would glance at him, her eyes sad and nostalgic. He never noticed because she didn't want him to notice.

"Aunt Minnie!" Minerva let out a small grunt when the eleven-year-old hugged her around the middle. They were in a small café on one of the busier streets of London. Luckily it was mid-morning and the place had few customers. Minerva let out an exasperated sigh before she gently patted the boy, a smile peeking out on her face.  
"Should I be calling you professor rather?" Hadrian let out a painful yelp. A welt was forming on his forehead. The older witch had flicked him!  
"I expect none of your cheek at school young man, understand?" Her expression was stern, and combined with her well cut pantsuit, she looked quite the intimidating sight. Aunt Petunia announced her presence with her light laughter.  
"You look well Minerva."  
"Thank you, so do you…" The older woman flicked off an imaginary piece of lint off her the sleeve of her jacket. "I found us a table, come." The three made their way to a table near the back, by the large windows. The table afforded them an unobstructed view of most of the café, with a direct line of sight of the entrance. As quickly as they were seated a waiter came to take their order. He seemed young, in his late teens, his face was covered in pimples but he had a bright smile. Once their order came Minerva brought her hand up, index finger pointing up towards the ceiling. She spun her hand, her finger tracing a circle before with a simple flick the sounds of the room faded momentarily before sound returned shortly.  
"You did that without a wand!" Hadrian had felt only the barest of magic and he looked at the witch with interest.  
"Casting such delicate spells without a wand takes practice. You will get there yourself one day." She offered him a gentle smile. Hadrian grinned in obvious excitement. He looked to be bursting with questions but Minerva stopped him.  
"Petunia, perhaps…" she trailed off, the younger woman was tense. Hadrian looked at his Aunt and was startled at the expression on her face.  
"Auntie, what's the matter?"  
"Do you remember, when you were younger and you asked me about your parents…"  
"You told that they died protecting me…" he trailed of uncertainly. He was not sure where this conversation was going.  
"I never did tell you the rest did I?" Hadrian shook his head. He remembered once asking about his parents. His Aunt had gotten so upset – Hadrian had never dared ask again.  
"You were born in the middle of war…" Minerva's voice startled Hadrian. He had almost forgotten she was there. She looked down at him, but her eyes bore past him, looking at something far away.  
"A dark wizard, brilliant in many ways and perhaps the most powerful wizard of the past few centuries…He did terrible things, horrible things; till this day people still fear to speak his very name…"  
"What was his name?" Minerva's green eyes sharpened into focus. Hadrian felt the urge to squirm under the look. "Voldemort, he called himself Lord Voldemort." Hadrian felt a chill creep up his spine, something in him stirred, like a forgotten memory. He clenched his fists under the table.  
"He raged his war, across Britain and Europe. Your parents were part of the resistance, as was I." She took a sip of water; her throat having gone dry. Hadrian could feel his heart pounding loudly in his ears.  
"We were ill prepared and while we held him back, we all knew that we were losing, slowly but surely. We needed something to happen, a game changer. Then he disappeared; at the height of his power, at the cusp of victory. Just like that," she snapped her fingers making Hadrian jump, "...and he was just gone."  
"What happened?" His voice felt small and afraid. Hadrian had a bad feeling; he could feel it brewing in the air. He almost flinched when the older witched gently brushed the fringe of his hair away from his forehead. There was his scar, bared to the world for all to see. It was shaped like a lightning bolt and stood out starkly against his skin. Her cool finger brushed against it gently and he shivered.  
"You happened Hadrian." She gave him a look he could not decipher; it left him feeling small and uncomfortable.  
"Nobody knows exactly why the Dark Lord chose to attack your parents directly; it could have been to make an example, to send a message. Perhaps he hated the Potter family – we don't know. But he chose to attack that Halloween night ten years ago. He killed your parents…" Hadrian flinched, his chest constricting. "Yet when he tried to kill you, he failed. Somehow, some way he failed, and his power broke. He has never been seen since."  
"But how? If he managed to kill my mom and dad – how did I survive?"  
"Your mother, Lily, did something…" Aunt Petunia's voice startled him. "Some sort of protective charm."  
"She's right Hadrian. Your mother gifted you with a protection so powerful, it managed to stop a curse that cannot be blocked. All it left was that scar." Hadrian unconsciously reached up to his scar, feeling it with his fingers. He had had it for as long as he could remember. His Aunt had told him it was from an accident from when he was a baby. Hadrian had always liked his scar, shaped like a lightning bolt, it made him look cool. Now it didn't feel so cool; it felt decidedly heavy. A reminder of a terrible night. With a sudden flash of insight, he realized something – all his nightmares; the terrible sound of a woman, flashes of green light, was it all vague recollection of that night.  
"What does this all mean? Why tell me now?" He looked between the two women. It was Aunt Petunia who answered first.  
"Because now you are old enough to understand why I kept it from you. Plus, in any case you had to know, considering you are going to school."  
"Huh? School? What's school have to do with this?"  
"You Mr. Potter are famous, in our world at least. Every child grew up learning and reading about Hadrian James Potter, the Boy Who Lived…"

* * *

The silver lighter opened with a metallic clink, a bright spark and a small flame burst into existence at the top. Hadrian stared at the flame; his mind was a whir of thoughts. He wished he could chuck it all into the little flame he held in his hand. It was a day after he had been told about the circumstances of his parents' death; and about his apparent celebrity status. When they had got back, he had gone and stayed in his room. He had not left and his Aunt had merely brought him his food. She had looked like she had wanted to say something, but couldn't seem to find the words. So, she had left him alone, everyone had left him alone. He was thankful. He did not know what to feel, how to process it all. How does one deal with learning that your parents were killed by a powerful dark wizard who couldn't kill you and because of it you were famous, famous for something you couldn't even remember. His night had been unpleasant – for once he remembered his nightmare. Hearing his mother scream and beg, pleading for his laugh, someone laughing, mocking. He had woken up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding and his scar burning. He touched it then, his scar. He could feel it under his fingers, it felt so ordinary, so inconsequential and yet…

Hedwig let out a soft hoot from her perch. Hadrian, startled out of his musings turned to look at her; impressions and warmth flooded into him from her. It meshed with the jumbled mess that were his emotions and thoughts. Hadrian let of a pleased hum, closing his eyes. He would have stayed like that had his door not been slammed open. Dudley walked in, a scowl on his face, in his hands he was balancing a tray of tarts and two juice-boxes. Dudley was getting big, Hadrian noticed absentmindedly. Dudley had always been bigger than Hadrian, what with him being a year older. Still Dudley was getting more muscular, wider. Without waiting for an invite, he walked in, absentmindedly closing the door with the back of his foot. He placed the tray on the bed and sat. Hadrian made to speak but Dudley cut him off by shoving a juice box at him.  
"Eat." He gestured imperiously at the tarts on the tray. Hadrian went ahead and picked one up. They were his favorite, treacle tarts. The two cousins sat there silently munching on the sweet treats, occasionally throwing a piece to Hedwig who gobbled them up expertly. Soon the tarts were gone and their fingers were sticky. Dudley let out a satisfied hum, patting his belly.  
"So…" Dudley looked at Hadrian expectantly.  
"So…?" Hadrian looked clueless.  
"Are you going to play dumb? Fine – what's up with you anyway? Ever since you got back from London you've been all moody, locking yourself up here. It has mom up in a tiffy. You got your letter; you should be happy not here moping about – like when I left for Smeltings. Now either you tell me yourself, all peaceable like or I wring it out of you. Your choice." Dudley sucked on his straw, making a slurping sound, his juice box was empty. Hadrian felt his lips twitch and before he knew what was happening, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. Dudley sat there, quiet and attentive. Then Hadrian was done, his breath coming fast. He looked up at Dudley hoping to catch his expression, but his cousin was looking away from him, his brow crinkled in thought. Dudley let out a hum.  
"Really that's all you have to say? It's not even words…"  
"Well what did you expect? I doubt I could tell you anything better than what mom and the cat professor already told you. I mean this is some pretty heavy stuff."  
"Then what was the point of all this." Hadrian gestured to the bed – the covers littered with bits of crumb from the tarts, a juice box lying haphazardly on the duvet. Dudley shrugged.  
"Dad always says that talking about our problems helps. I think it did; an hour ago you weren't talking to anyone and now, well here we are." Hadrian felt like punching him but stopped himself. Dudley could be so annoying sometimes, but he had a point. Hadrian felt just that little lighter after telling Dudley.  
"Look, the way I see it at least now we know how your parents died, which is a good thing because well they were looking out for you. They loved you, and that's what matters. Concentrate on that." The whole thing was said awkwardly but Hadrian felt a sudden warmth blossom in him. He smiled.  
"Anyway I was hoping you could help me with my game, I can't beat the boss on this level so I'm stuck…" Dudley scratched his head, embarrassed. Hadrian let out a chuckle before getting out of bed and following Dudley to his room.  
"You know celebrities get free stuff right…."  
"DUDLEY DURSLEY!" The two boys jumped as Aunt Petunia's voice thundered from the kitchen.  
"How the bloody hell did she hear that?"  
"Language!"

That evening there was no mention of Hadrian's sudden attendance at the dinner table. Nobody mentioned anything about dark wizards or anything of the sort. If Aunt Petunia was a bit more affectionate that night, fussing over him a bit more than usual, nobody dared to voice it. Really it was like any other night in the Dursley household. The atmosphere quickly turned to excited when Aunt Petunia finally announced that they would be able to visit the Wizarding shopping district that weekend. The three males on the table shared sly grins and Petunia pretended not to see anything.

That Saturday, the family woke up bright and early, had a healthy breakfast and then piled into Uncle Vernon's car and headed off to London. Under his wife's directions Vernon drove to a street filled with a lot of shops, some old and selling antiques and all sorts of things.  
"So, Pet, what now?" The family of four were standing on the street, probably looking lost and awkward. Vernon looked at his wife who was frowning looking back and forth between a piece of paper and the line of shops across the street from them.  
"Minerva did say it was here…"  
"Well what's it called then," Uncle Vernon panned his eyes left and right, feeling that maybe the shop would just show itself. Meanwhile Dudley was bouncing on the balls of his feet getting impatient. Hadrian found his eyes drawn to a particular shop, it was tucked between a bookstore and a music shop. The shop seemed so out of place on the clean London street, it looked old and dirty.  
"It's called the Leaky Cauldron…"  
"Oh, it'll be that one then." Hadrian pointed at the shop right across the street from them. The other three looked and Hadrian noted how their eyes seemed to just slide over to either of the stores beside it. Hadrian noticed that nearly all the pedestrians' eyes did the same. Curious.  
"I don't see it!" Dudley huffed, his eyes peered intently forward, but they slid away to stare at an old telephone booth.  
"Oh, I remember…" Aunt Petunia said triumphantly. "Hadrian, hold my and your uncle's hands please." Not giving the strange request much thought, Hadrian complied. Vernon let out an impressed sound.  
"That's quite clever." Dudley looked at them strangely, "What's clever?" Vernon let go of his nephew and Dudley grabbed the young wizard's hand. Concentrating a bit, he saw the shop emerge between two others. "Wicked!"

The family then proceeded to cross the street, hands linked and swinging for effect. They must have looked ridiculous, Hadrian thought privately. A bit of maneuvering later and they were all in the Leaky Cauldron – the inside was dark and shabby and despite it being mid-morning, the barman, an old balding man with many of his yellowed teeth missing, was pouring some customers a drink. Their entrance did not go unnoticed.  
"Better keep that hat low now." Hadrian heeded his uncle's whispered words, pulling his cap lower over his eyes. Before they had left, his uncle had thrown it at him to hide his scar, "There's no sense to getting mobbed." The various customers having satisfied some of their curiosity turned back to whatever they had been doing. With Uncle Vernon taking the lead they made their way to the bar.  
"Excuse me."  
"Ah, nice morning isn't it?" the bartender was cleaning a glass with a dirty rag. Aunt Petunia scrunched up her nose in distaste. Hadrian felt Dudley poke him, getting his attention. Following Dudley's not so subtle gestures he looked across the room. There a few meters away was a man wearing purple robes trimmed in blue and his head was wrapped in turban. While the man's appearance was strange, it was not what grabbed the two kids' attention. The man was reading a newspaper, the wizard paper if the name was anything to go by – The Daily Prophet. It was quite the same as any old paper except for one thing, the pictures – the pictures were moving!  
"You two are muggles right?" the bartender's voice drifted to them.  
"Muggles." Uncle Vernon asked uncertainly.  
"Non-magic folk. Mundane." "Oh yes we are, how'd you know." Uncle Vernon asked interested.  
"Easy enough, you just look it is all. Plus, your boys are gaping at the newspaper like they never seen it before…" the bartender trailed off with a careless shrug. Uncle Vernon turned and noticed the paper. Huh, moving pictures were quite a novel concept.  
"You must be wanting to get into the Alley then?" the adults nodded. "Come along then." The family of four followed the surprisingly sprightly old man to the back of the restaurant and into a narrow-walled courtyard. It was full of weeds and a trash can was resting against the wall. "Now you best pay attention now." The man then pulled out a long thin stick from somewhere – his wand and then seemed to count the bricks above the trash can. "Three up… Two across." He then tapped the wall on the spot he indicated. The wall seemed to shiver and shudder before the bricks fell away, folding into themselves and opening up into an arch. The family's first look into the Alley was a cobbled street that twisted and turned with shops lining it.

When they stepped into the Alley, Hadrian found that his eyes could not stay still. There was so much to see! The shops that lined both sides of the cobbled street were colorful and bright, grabbing at his attention. He and Dudley quickly got tired of tugging at each other – there was far too much to see. He could hear whizzes and fizzles coming from some of them. He heard owners shouting their wares, cauldrons made of pewter and silver, animals that he had never heard of. There was an ice cream parlor, with bubbles that smelled of sugar and ice floating out of it. Uncle Vernon held Dudley firmly as they went past that one. One shop, an apothecary smelled of rotten cabbage and sweaty socks; the window was lined with all sorts of things, one jar contained small eyeballs that winked at him. One shop had a broom on display; a bunch of people were pressed outside the window, admiring it. It was unlike any broom he had ever seen. Sleek and gleaming, its twigs were tightly packed, not one out of place and its lines gave the impression of speed. _Nimbus 2000_ was stamped in gold lettering at the front of the handle. So, this was what was used in Quidditch; just looking at the broom gave him a tingling feeling. Hadrian would have loved to stop and admire all that he could see, but his Aunt had a firm grip on his shoulder. She ignored his protests, adjusted the cap over his head and marched him straight ahead. It was when they reached a white imposing building that Hadrian managed to focus on one thing. The building towered over its neighbors, it was domed, with what looked like glass yet it gleamed like nothing he had ever seen before. The pillars at the front weren't smooth but had designs on them, intricately carved to look like vines. The steps leading up to the front doors, massive bronze things, were flanked by two statues. Two dragons poised to attack, their maws open, marble teeth gleaming. All this was quite interesting but it was the two people, two guards who stood on either side of the door that held most of Hadrian's attention. Goblins. "Wicked!" he heard Dudley whisper excitedly. Hadrian certainly agreed. They were short, but were no less intimidating for it. Their skin was leathery, with a slight greenish tint to it. They had long pointy ears, that twitched at every sound, their heads were bald and domed. They had long fingers, topped with sharp pointed nails. They were wearing armor, a dull grey that blended well into the shadows cast by the pillars. Each carried a spear, twice as tall as they were, it's deadly tip gleaming. Hadrian could see an axe handle strapped on one of the guard's back. Hadrian gulped when he noticed that their small dark beady eyes followed them up the stairs. He wondered if they would be skewered. The goblins gave them small bows as they went inside and then they were facing a pair of silver doors, with words engraved on them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_  
_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_  
_For those who take, but do not earn,_  
_Must pay most dearly in their turn._  
_So if you seek beneath our floors_  
_A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware_  
_Of finding more than treasure there._

The massive doors opened silently as they approached and with a last nervous glance at the guards, the Dursley family entered the Wizarding Bank. Dudley gasped in wonder and Hadrian gaped. Whereas the outside was all gleaming white marble, the inside was a contrast. The floor was made of dark marble tiles, with veins of gold running through them, branching off in random directions. The massive hall they were in was lined with pillars – every other pillar had a pale crystal halfway up its length. The purpose of the crystals was lost on Hadrian. On either side was a line of high stools behind a long counter made of dark wood and polished to a shine. On each sat a goblin, unlike those outside, these wore suits, pinstriped with little bow ties around their necks. Many of them were busy, writing in ledgers, counting coins, weighing gleaming gems or attending to a customer. Hadrian looked back at his family. Uncle Vernon was looking around warily, Dudley was looking everywhere, trying hard not to stare at the piles of wealth on some of the tellers' desks. Aunt Petunia while looking discomfited was looking around, her eyes searching. She took a step forward towards a teller with no customer. Her sensible heels echoed but she paid it no mind. She stood under the teller, she gave a little cough and was ignored.

"Excuse me?"

"I will be with you in a moment miss." the goblin's voice was surprisingly soft, not at all what one expected. Aunt Petunia bit back her reply and waited. She had an inkling as to why the counter was so high; the little bastards probably enjoyed looking down on their customers. With a final clink of metal, the goblin then swept the coins he was counting into a simple brown pouch, it had a large golden G emblazoned on its side. Without a care in the world, the goblin clasped his fingers in front of him and looked down at her.

"Yes?" Aunt Petunia resisted the urge to grimace. Sucking in her pride she the pasted on a pleasantly fake smile.

"Good morning, my name is Petunia Dursley, I have an appointment with Account Manager Ripclaw at ten. Would you be so kind as to direct us to his office?" The goblin's dark beady eyes suddenly grew unnaturally sharp, they flicked to the dark-haired boy beside the obviously muggle woman. They noted the nondescript cap he was wearing low over his head, enough to hide his fringe. Hadrian fidgeted under the penetrating look. The tinkle of a small bell had an obviously younger goblin come jogging up to them.

"Griphook, take them to Manager Ripclaw's office." The younger goblin gave a small bow before turning on his heel and walking away. They made to follow, "Only the boy and his aunt are required I'm afraid." Uncle Vernon gestured to his wife to go on before he turned to the goblin. "So, mind telling me what the exchange rate is between pounds and whatever it is you use here?" Hadrian turned back to look at his cousin and uncle, he noticed that his uncle had a wicked smile on his face.

The walk to the office was done in silence, Griphook was not one for idle conversation it seemed. Hadrian did not mind, and busied himself with looking at the various carvings on the walls. Done on the dark stone, the carvings should have looked dull and lifeless but these were not ordinary carvings. The moment he looked at them, color bled into them and they came to life, reenacting bloody battles and discoveries. He noticed that the hall was well lit and looked up. _So that's what the stones are for_. The pale crystals he had noticed in the banking hall also lined the walls here. Unlike in the hall where they had been dull, here they shone, spilling gentle light into the otherwise dark corridor. Soon they came across doors, each had names on them, the plaques gleaming silver in the light. Hadrian read a few of them as he passed; Bones, Black, Nott, Greengrass. Finally, they stopped at a door and Griphook knocked, three quick raps. The plaque gleamed and the words were easily visible; **Potter**. Hadrian felt a nervous flutter in his stomach and tried to calm himself. "Enter." The voice behind the door was gruff. Feeling nervous, Hadrian followed on the heels of his aunt and entered the office.

The first thing that Hadrian noticed was the large window that dominated the back, giving a view of the Alley below them. The second thing he noticed was the large desk made of dark wood. Looking at the desk had him looking at the goblin that was sat there – he was dressed smartly; except he had taken off his jacket and was only in a waistcoat. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt were folded up his arms and he was not wearing a tie. His bald head was bent over the desk, and he was furiously scribbling on a piece of paper. In short, the goblin looked rather overworked. Hadrian and his aunt sat themselves on the chairs in front of the desk. Hadrian wiggled a bit in his chair, the thing was the most uncomfortable chair he had ever encountered. He gave up his attempts when the chair gave a louder than usual creak. Instead he busied himself with looking around the office. To his left the obsidian walls had been carved into shelves – shelves that were filled with odds and ends that Hadrian could not identify. There were what looked like crystal balls, the bottom shelf had a large silver basin that looked to be made of stone. Looking further around the room he spotted a rack of weapons. What sort of account manager kept a bunch of swords and axes in their office? He looked from the gleaming edge of the halberd and glanced at the goblin still busy writing. How could someone so small manage to lift something that massive. His thoughts were interrupted by the very goblin he was thinking of – with a final flourish the goblin finished up writing. Rolling the parchment quickly, he took a small metal pitcher and tipped it over the letter. Golden molten wax poured out and sealed the edge of the letter, the application of a small stamp later had the letter engraved with a large G. Holding it up, Griphook, the younger goblin quickly snatched it away and left the office. The goblin spent a few moments to shuffle some papers around his desk before turning to his guests.  
"Mrs Dursley, nice to see you again." His voice was gruff but not unkind. He turned his dark eyes to Hadrian, "And you must be her nephew…" the goblin quickly left his desk and went to the shelves. Before either he or his aunt could comment on the strangeness of it all he was back, in his hand was what Hadrian had thought to be a crystal ball.  
"Now first before we start anything, I need to confirm your identity…" he was talking to Hadrian.  
"With that?" the object in question was oval shaped, the top was made of glass and it rested on a wooden bed. Hadrian could see its inside filled with some sort of smoky substance.  
"Yes with this – a Diviner. Now if you please, place your hand upon its surface and it shall do the rest." Hadrian looked at his Aunt, hesitantly she gave him a nod. He placed his hand on the Diviner. For a few moments nothing happened and Hadrian felt a swell of anxiousness rise within himself. Then the Diviner let out a soft chime and all the smoke had gone clear white. The goblin let out a pleased hum before he toom the device and placed it back onto its place on the shelf.  
"Let me start by first welcoming you back to the Wizarding world Mr Potter. My name is Ripclaw and I am the Potter Account Manager."  
"Nice to meet you Mr Ripclaw and I – I prefer to go by Hadrian."  
"Very well. I am unsure if your Aunt has told you much…"  
"Only the basics. I don't know much myself and thought it best to leave it up to the experts, you." Ripclaw nodded in acknowledgement. Taking a deep breath, the goblin started explaining – "You are Hadrian James Potter, the heir to an old family, the Potters. What this means is that when you come of age, you will inherit the title Lord Potter and the total sum of the wealth, land, businesses and any available assets your family has acquired over the years. My job as your account manager is to help you manage what I must admit is a substantial amount of wealth; providing you with services such as but not limited to investment advice, managing your accounts, funding your businesses. Your land assets are currently being managed by your steward…." Hadrian let out a choking noise.  
"I have a steward?"  
"Yes, but unfortunately he is unable to meet with you today due to circumstances."  
"Okay, but why do I need all this, how much do I actually have…?" Hadrian was surprised when he was handed a sheaf of papers.  
"In preparation to our meeting, I ordered a proper accounting of all your accounts and all other assets that Gringotts manages for you…"  
"Accounts? As in multiple." His aunt peered over his shoulder and then let out a gasp. Hadrian had never seen those many zeros.  
"Yes, accounts. As you can see…" Ripclaw then proceeded to point out places of interest on the papers. "…apart from the Potter Vault, which is your main vault, you have three additional accounts, vaults, with us."  
"Why does he have so many? I understand this one…" Aunt Petunia pried the papers from Hadrian's hands. "It says trust vault, I assume his parents set it up for his expenses before he becomes of age, is it?" The goblin gave a nod in acknowledgement. "So, what is a collections vault?"  
"Ah, that. I'm sure Mr Potter you know by now that you are something of a celebrity. Well that's what that vault is for – your adoring public, they were grateful for your deeds that many of them bequeathed you things, money, jewels, books etcetera. It is also where the royalties from the book series, that is based on you, are received."  
"Wait, there's a book about me?!  
"Books actually. Your name was used without your permission, so I took the liberty of filling a lawsuit on your behalf, hence the royalties."  
"Uhm okay? Thanks for that." Hadrian retook the papers from his aunt and looked at them again. He owned a silk factory in South America? Exactly what was Potter Cove? Vineyards, potion patents, it was all so much to take in – and so he focused on one thing; Lily Evans Vault.  
"My mother's vault…" his voice even to his own ears felt small. His aunt placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.  
"Yes, what with the war going on, she never had time to authorize that her vault be absorbed into the family vault. As her eldest and only child, it is yours." Hadrian listened to all this; his eyes still glued to his mother's name.  
"Do I have the ability to authorize that? This merger?" He looked up and met the dark eyes of the account manager – his account manager, he was quickly coming to accept.  
"Yes you do." "Then do it." Ripclaw proceeded to write some more in his notes.  
"Harry," he turned and faced his aunt, her face was tight with emotion but she still managed a gentle smile. "I know that this is not what you expected, it's not what I expected honestly but know that I am here with you every step of the way."  
"Your home economics lessons don't really do this any justice Auntie," he managed a smile and she chuckled good naturedly. Ripclaw cleared his throat to gain their attention.  
"I know that this is a lot to take in Mr Potter, usually most heirs grow up learning these things, but…" he trailed off shrugging helplessly, he did not need to say that Hadrian's situation was somewhat unique.  
"In any case, you are not expected to actively take part in the management of your estate until you are at least fourteen. So, you have a few years to learn the basics – plus I will be at your disposal as I have been for the Potters who came before you."  
"Wait… How long have you been doing this?" Ripclaw let out a grin exposing sharp dangerous looking teeth.  
"For quite a few years, I served your grandfather from the moment he became lord till the day he died." The goblins voice had gone quite nostalgic there at the end. Hadrian found himself looking at the goblin with new eyes. If what the goblin said was true, and Hadrian had no reason to believe otherwise, then the goblin was quite old. Goblins aged well, he thought privately to himself.  
"In any case, there is still the case of your lordship…"  
"Wait I thought that wasn't until a couple of years down the line, after he comes of age?"  
"You are of course right, but because he is the last of his line, certain privileges are open to him."  
"What sort of privileges."  
"He can become emancipated as early as fourteen…"  
"Oh…"  
"Yes, but like I said many of these things are still years off. So please do not be overly worried." The goblin reached into one of the drawers on his desk, his whole arm disappearing inside. They could hear things being shuffled about and clattering inside. The drawers seemed to be bigger on the inside. Finally, having found what he was looking for, the goblin pulled out his arm. In his hand was a small ornate wooden box, with a coat of arms carved into it. A rearing griffin, its wings spread and clutching a wand and sword in either of its front claws. Under it was an inscription; **Audaces Fortuna Iuvat**. Without preamble Ripclaw opened the box and inside on top of a velvet covered cushion was a slim golden ring, engraved with a repeating pattern of a griffin.  
"It is the ring worn by the heir of the Potter family. Every lord who came before you wore this ring. Wear it with pride." Hadrian gingerly took the delicate looking ring out of the box. Its weight was barely noticeable. He ran his thumb over its surface; it was smooth. He could feel the magic within the metal, it felt familiar and benevolent. He slipped it on the ring finger of his left hand and felt the ring thrum and shudder before it tightened to fit perfectly. He looked down at the gold band, it felt right.

* * *

They found Uncle Vernon and Dudley standing outside the broom shop, looking into the window with curious expressions.  
"Would you believe it Pet, they reckon that broom is faster than my car." Aunt Petunia looked at the broom on display. She admitted it was quite an eye catching and well-crafted thing, but it looked entirely unsuited to actual sweeping. "I think it would be best if we split up Vernon. You take the boys and go buy the cauldron, scales and potion ingredients. I will go get his books and telescope and we will meet up at that shop over there." She pointed at a clothing store: Madam Malkins Robes for all Occasions, it was quite close to the ice cream shop they had seen earlier. "We are on a schedule so please don't dilly dally." She handed him a pouch full of coins and left them to their own devices. Uncle Vernon looked at the boys and offered them a smile.  
"Come along then, lets finish this quick so I can buy some fancy gloves." The three quickly made their way up the street, consulting the map that Uncle Vernon carried a few times. They could have probably found the Apothecary without the map; all they would have needed to do was to follow the smell.

The shop was dark and cool and smelt awful, on account of there being so many dead things in one place. The number of ingredients and wares on sale surprised Hadrian. From things as simple as herbs and flowers, to beetles and moths and things such as frog liver. It was varied and full of things he could hardly name or even begin to guess at. The shopkeeper seeing obviously muggle customers had tried to pull one over them. But Uncle Vernon was in his element; he haggled and threatened until he got what he was sure were fair prices. Uncle Vernon insisted on buying a few extra ingredients for when his nephew felt like practicing. They left leaving a bemused owner. "That is how you get what you want boys, don't let them walk over you."

Luckily the shop that sold cauldrons and scales was nearby; probably because it made sense to have it close to where the potion making ingredients were sold. The experience went much smoother this time and soon they were headed to the clothes shop. Their hands were quite full of awkward shaped packages and every step was accompanied with clinking. So, it was with relief that they saw Aunt Petunia standing outside the clothes shop with a trunk beside her. "Are you sure it will all fit inside?" Vernon looked sceptically at the medium sized trunk. It was a reasonable size but they had quite a lot with them, not to mention the many shapes they carried. "I'm quite sure dear." Uncle Vernon huffed before opening the trunk, "Oh." The inside was much larger than the out. It was quite disorienting for his eyes to see, but as they stuffed their purchases beside the books that his wife had bought and neatly arranged, he was thoroughly impressed.

The clothes shop was thoroughly unimpressive; it looked every bit as any mundane clothing store that Hadrian had ever been in. There were racks of clothes, divided into sections by gender, age and as well as special use. A counter was off to the side and behind it was a bored looking girl, flipping through some magazines. Behind the girl were shelves filled with tins, belts, hats and yarn. The moment they opened the door, a little bell chimed and an older woman, a witch presumably, with grey in her hair walked up to them, a pleasant smile on her face. "Good morning, I assume that you're a Hogwarts bunch? Good come along here and up the box…" Hadrian followed the woman deeper into the shop, bemused by her abrupt manner. He glanced back and noticed that only his aunt was trailing behind him, his Uncle and cousin having drifted somewhere. Dutifully he stood on top of the box, and was immediately accosted by another young woman with tape who draped some cloth around his form. Trying hard not to fidget, he looked to his right and saw another boy also getting fitted for his robes. The boy was pale, with a slim face and pointed chin, his hair was a pale blond and was slicked back. He stood stiffly and there was a slight sneer on his face. "You're going to Hogwarts too I imagine." Hadrian was startled to find the other boy looking at him, his grey eyes surveying him critically.  
"Uh – yea I am. I'm quite excited. Didn't know I was going to get in." said Hadrian grinning sheepishly.  
"Well I always knew I was going to go; my name was down the moment I was born." The other boy said importantly, lifting his chin imperiously. Hadrian thought he looked a bit ridiculous what with all the bits of robes stuck around him, but he chose not to mention it.  
"But I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about that, being muggleborn and all…" "How'd you reckon I'm muggleborn?" The other boy seemed startled to find himself interrupted. He seemed to struggle with the idea for a while before he gathered himself enough to respond.  
"You're wearing a muggle cap?" It was Hadrian's turn to be startled. He had forgotten that he was wearing a cap. Did a hat really give that much impression to these people? "Well I'm a halfblood and I just like the hat."  
"Oh…well that's okay I suppose." he said nodding to himself as if things were alright in his world. Hadrian frowned, was there something wrong with being a muggleborn. He voiced the question to his still unnamed acquaintance. The other boy frowned in thought, his grey eyes glazing as if lost in thought, "Well I wouldn't say wrong exactly…. The way father says it, Purebloods are better and muggleborns are worse off. Halfbloods are okay though…" he added quickly seeing the frown on the cap wearing boy.  
"But why are they better…" "Oh Hadrian, I see you've made a friend. Hello, young man." Hadrian noticed the other boy stiffen, his spine straightening as he looked at Aunt Petunia.  
"Hello ma'am." The boy said stiffly, he suddenly looked uncomfortable. Hadrian couldn't imagine why though. Aunt Petunia held up a couple of articles of clothing; shirts and trousers, they were of a different cut than he was used to. "I got you these, do you like them or should I get you something different?" "No those are fine, thanks." He turned to look at the other boy but he was gone. He spotted him walking out with a tall striking platinum blond woman. He hadn't even gotten the other boys name.

Their last stop was the wand shop and Hadrian couldn't almost stop himself from jumping up and down. The shop was small and old, it was squeezed between two other shops. In old faded and peeling lettering it announced itself; Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A tinkling bell sounded somewhere in the dark narrow shop when they entered. The family of four felt a bit crowded in the space before the counter. Uncle Vernon made himself comfortable in the single spindly chair. Hadrian peered into the gloom of the back room, hoping to see something. "Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Hadrian jumped. Uncle Vernon must have jumped too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.  
"Hello," said Hadrian awkwardly.  
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Hadrian Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."  
Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Hadrian his pale orbs peering at the young wizard intently. Hadrian wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were unsettling.  
"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it — it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

"Wait – how can you remember what wands you sold – that must have been ages ago." Dudley interjected, his face was the picture of confused curiosity. Mr. Ollivander blinked, only now noticing the other boy standing beside his customer. "Every master craftsman remembers all that he creates." He then turned those strange eyes back to Hadrian. "Which is your wand arm?" Hadrian looked at the man oddly not really knowing what he meant, so he raised both his arms. "I'm ambidextrous."  
"Interesting." The old man then pulled out a tape measure from somewhere and proceeded to measure him. Shoulder to wrist, fingertips to elbow, the diameter of his head. The old man then stepped away, going to the back of the shop, he left the tape measure, floating and still measuring Hadrian. It was a testament to how much magic the four had seen today that they barely blinked at the animated tape. Dudley did laugh when the tape started measuring the length between Hadrian's nostrils. Any attempt to swat the possessed tape only led to him getting tangled up in it. "That's enough now." The tape fell, lifeless to the floor. Mr. Ollivander dumped a few slim long boxes onto the counter. "Willow and Unicorn hair, eleven inches and a bit stiff." He pulled out a slim wand and handed it to Hadrian. "Give it a wave," he said after noticing that the boy was holding the wand with no idea what to do. Feeling a bit silly, Hadrian waved the wand. There was a loud bang and the shelf nearest to the counter exploded sending boxes flying. Hadrian gawked at the wand in his hand. He was less than surprised when Mr. Ollivander snatched the wand out of his hands. "Birch and a dragon heartstring from a particularly ferocious Welsh Green, twelve inches and springy." Hadrian waved the wand, this time confidently, hoping it would help. It didn't. The wand let out a large roaring gout of flame. Only some quick wand work from Mr. Ollivander saved the shop from burning. Hadrian exchanged looks with his Aunt, she looked worried. Uncle Vernon was looking at the door leading outside and Dudley didn't know whether to grin or run. Mr. Ollivander though looked excited, his eyes gleamed in delight. "Such wonderful reactions Mr. Potter."

The wands started coming faster now; Oak with phoenix feather conjured a blizzard, Hawthorn with unicorn hair blew a hole into a wall. Some wands didn't even produce any reactions at all, simply feeling dead and cold in Hadrian's hand. Some wands shrivelled up – and didn't that bring a laugh from Mr. Ollivander, and some wands jumped out of his hands and rolled away. A pile of unmatched wands grew steadily on the counter much to the delight of the wandmaker and to Hadrian's growing sense of dread. Was he broken? Was he unable to use a wand? Uncle Vernon must have noticed his distress because Hadrian soon felt his uncle's large hand on his shoulder offering silent support. Still the pile grew, the wand reactions varied and Hadrian's dread grew. "You are one of the trickiest customers I have had in a while Mr Potter."  
"I'm sorry for that…" the wandmaker let out a laugh. "Sorry? Ha, this is quite fun. It means that you won't be having any old wand…hmm I wonder." The wandmaker quickly left the counter, disappearing into the depths of his shop. They could hear him muttering to himself. They were startled by loud cursing accompanied with a loud thud of something heavy falling and then silence. They were debating amongst themselves on who would brave the dark shop to check on the shop owner before he emerged. His silver hair was dishevelled, his clothes ruffled, and in his arms, he cradled a box. He looked at Hadrian, making the boy shiver. There was something truly unsettling about the man's eyes, they seemed to see more than was there. The man seemed to hesitate a moment before he started speaking, "There are those who say that certain woods shouldn't be used because of ludicrous ideas such as bad luck and such. This wand is made of such wood, Elder. Rest assured that some of the wands you tested were made of the same wood." He was quick to add even as he brought the wand out. It was long, dark and slim. "Thirteen inches, Elder wood and phoenix feather, an unusual combination. Unusual in that this is one of the few of such combination that I have ever successfully made." He held the wand tenderly almost lovingly and Hadrian had the feeling that the man despite his eccentricities put a lot of emotion into his creations. Hadrian received the dark wand, almost reluctant to do so, he needn't have. Warmth; like standing in the sun after being in a cold room, the warmth travelled all over his body. From his left hand that held the wand to the top of his head and tips of his toes. His magic, which had almost always been raging under his skin, rushed up and into the wand connecting with its core. He let out a pleased gasp and the wand let out a brilliant shower of gold and silver sparks. Hadrian turned to look at his family, his face sporting a stupid grin. He turned to look at the wandmaker. The man tilted his head, a thoughtful expression taking over his features. "Curious."

"What's curious." Dudley piped up from the back. Ollivander's strange eyes didn't move from gazing at Hadrian. The air felt charged and the room felt stuffed. Something pressed against them, a force unseen but powerful bearing down on them, Hadrian could feel it wrap around his shoulders almost luxuriating, "The phoenix who gave that feather in your wand core also gave another feather. That feather became the core of the wand that gave you that scar." Aunt Petunia let out a horrified gasp. Ollivander brought up a gnarled finger and ever so gently brushed Hadrian's fringe away, exposing the lightning shaped scar for but a moment. "I shall watch your progress Mr Potter. The Dark Lord did great things, terrible things yes, but great nevertheless." The man then straightened up and Hadrian could suddenly breath again.

"That will be seven galleons for the wand, I also offer wand holsters for three." He said it all with a beatific smile. They paid the ten galleons and left the shop and soon after Diagon Alley. The trip to Surrey was taken not in silence but with bursts of conversation mixed in with pangs of awkward silences. The whole trip, Hadrian held onto his wand, enjoying the warm feeling it gave him, his magic seemed to purr in content. It felt like the final piece to a puzzle he had not known he was solving. It felt good having a wand, he could now appreciate why Professor McGonagall had always been reluctant to have him use her wand. Despite this newfound bliss, Mr Ollivander's words lingered at the edge of his thoughts, whispering and teasing; _The Dark Lord did great things, terrible things yes, but great…._ Was he destined for such things?

* * *

**A/N: A wand made of elder, yikes. I bet you're probably thinking Deathstick blah blah blah. But honestly that is not it; I have been on Pottermore looking up stuff and an article about wand woods fascinated me. After coming to grips with it well, i just couldn't see my version of Harry using Hazel, just no.**

**So far the response to my story has been nice, it's been favorited and followed and I certainly appreciate that. I got my first review, sucks that you were a guest and I cant give a proper shoutout but still; your review was motivating. When I saw the follows, the favourites and the review, it really pushed me and i had a bout of inspiration. You'll see the results in the future, I'm rather proud of it. Anyway Read and Review. Enjoy**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Harry potter is not mine**

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**A NEW WORLD**

* * *

_There is no end. There is no beginning. There is only the passion of life…_

_**Federico Fellini**_

* * *

She watched him, standing calmly, looking down at the valley below him. He almost resembled a statue, with how still he was standing, but his hands betrayed him. There in his hands, he was worrying some prayer beads. He was nervous, she could tell. She stepped away from the pillar she was behind, her steps were silent but she saw his hands twitch; he'd heard her.

"Amma," he acknowledged when she came to stand beside him. She looked down at the valley, their valley. The sun was just rising, painting the horizon a velvety pink, chasing away the chill of the night. The sky in the west was still dark, a deep blue bleeding into dark purple. Stars blinked, defiant to the growing light. The mountains, snow-capped and jagged, jutted up, trying to pierce the morning sky; and it was between the shadow of two those mountains that the valley rested in. Tucked as it was between two mountains, it was out of sight from most eyes. The valley unfolded, rolling down with streams cutting across it, creating a green patchwork interspersed with fast white frothy rivulets. Those streams joined until it was a large river; carrying fresh life-giving water down to the valley. High up, the river had cut into the rock, carving, shaping and creating a series of water falls; it was here on a large outcropping of rock, a plateau of sorts that a large magnificent villa sat. High up on an east facing balcony, one that offered a view of the falls and the valley below, the two stood and looked at the valley below. In the early light the valley and village below looked pale and sleepy, a thin film of morning fog clung to the surface; picturesque and beautiful. Houses and shops tumbled down below, colourful and bright. Abandoning her observation of what was below her, she looked sideways at him. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and there was a slight stubble on his chin.

"You look horrible." Her voice was soft but sharp. He let out a tired chuckle.

"The days have been long." He ran a hand through his greying hair. She let out an irritated tsk. When was the last time he had slept or even tried to rest, she wondered? "You are more than tired, you are worried." He scowled at her, but it lacked any heat.

"You always could read me like a book mother. It has always annoyed me."

"It is a mother's job to know. Now tell me, what has happened? How did the meeting go?" She looked up at him, her dark eyes gleaming with both concern and curiosity. He turned away from her then and looked down at the valley. He could see the people below starting their days, lighting fires, opening shops and children running about. He almost imagined he could smell the scent of fresh bread from the

baker on the soft breeze. When had he last had the time, the chance to take a walk down the streets? He glanced down at the beads he still held in his hand. They were dark, with simple swirls carved on them.

"All the families have refused to take responsibility for the attack on the mines. It seems they were just common bandits…" his voice was carefully careless.

"That does not make any sense. You read the reports yourself, Amrit would never lie to you. He examined them himself; their minds…"

"Amma!" He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He let out a frustrated sigh, before continuing, "I know what the report said and I share Amrit's suspicions. But that is just what they are suspicions. I need more if I am to oust one of the families, a lot more. I need to tread carefully…"

"You are High Lord…" "Yes, I am, and that is why I must exercise caution. It was a fool's hope – that meeting, hoping that one of them would come forward." He let out a chuckle – mirthless and sardonic. "There has been much tension between the families and I must maintain the balance. My power is not absolute." They stayed in silence as she took the time to digest his words. She did not like the situation they had found themselves but his words rang true. They could not be seen to be pushing their own personal agendas. Still there was something that had been niggling at the back of her mind.

"Is that why you are sending the girls away?" He let out a grimace and grabbed onto the railing, his knuckles turning pale.

"Yes and no – it keeps them away from all this," he gestured wildly and vaguely about him. "…but it also serves to expose them to the wider world. There are many benefits to sending them to Europe."

"Ever the politician," her tone was reproachful but he paid it no mind. "Have you told them at least, why you are sending them away?" He shrugged carelessly making her huff irritably.

"I'm sure Padma will figure it out eventually, Parvati won't care, she loves going to places." She shook her head at her son's assessment of his daughters, her granddaughters, it was not wrong. She glanced behind her, towards the pillars and frowned. She thought she had seen something, sensed someone. Her son shifted and she glanced at him and he looked apologetic, "I have to go Amma, give the girls my love." She allowed him to give her a soft kiss on her brow. "Supper will be waiting for you, stay safe Devraj." He gave her a small nod before with a half twist and crack he was gone. She let out a small hum and looked at the town that sprawled before her. "I did not know that my own granddaughter snuck in the shadows of her own home." There was a beat of silence before she heard some shuffling steps behind her.

"Sorry Awa." "Come child let me look at you." She turned slightly to look at the young girl. The girl had caramel coloured skin, dark large eyes and a small nose. She had her head bowed down demurely, but the older woman could see a small smile tugging the corner of her lips.

"Why were you sneaking around Padma?"

"I was not sneaking," protested the girl, her tone a touch petulant, she shrugged her petit shoulders. "You and papa were talking – I did not want you to think I was eavesdropping."

"So you heard nothing?" The older woman looked at the younger girl, her dark eyes searching Padma's lighter brown ones. "I did not hear much that I did not already know." The younger girl lifted her chin defiantly.

"You are too smart for your own good my little flower." The young girl opened her mouth to say something but her grandmother cut her off. "Why are you up so early?" She gestured for Padma to follow her. They moved through the halls, passing by servants who bowed politely to the two.  
"Sanjay is taking me to the Healing Houses – Healer Ashraj is finally going to let me watch as they prepare some of their salves."  
"Just watch?" Her grandmother gestured for a servant and rattled off a quick instruction. The servant bowed and left hurriedly.  
"That's all I could get…"  
"Do not whine, its unbecoming of your station." Padma looked away, murmuring under her breath, "What do I care about my station..."  
"Hmm? Did you say something?" Padma quickly shook her head. "Nothing Awa."  
"I thought so." She gave her granddaughter a considering look. "Did you do your chores already?"

"Yes Awa." Her grandmother hummed.

"You have done your morning exercises?" Padma gave her grandmother a glance but she was busy looking at long strips of cloth that a servant had brought. For a moment Padma could not remember what the bright sheets were for. Until she remembered the festival later that week.  
"I have Awa." Something in her tone must have been off because her grandmother turned and looked at her. The older woman dismissed the servant with an errant wave. "You must not neglect them my little lotus – that necklace is a crutch and you must not overly rely on it." Padma ducked her head, feeling properly chastised. Her hand went to the golden necklace strung around her neck. Her fingers traced the delicate carvings there.  
"I'm sorry Awa, it's just hard sometimes…"  
"Nothing worthwhile was ever easy my dear. But you are young yet and you have time to learn and grow." The older woman run her hands along Padma's smooth hair and the girl smiled.  
"Yes Awa."  
"Now come, let us go wake your sister. That girl sleeps like the dead sometimes." Padma laughed at her grandmother's antics and followed in her wake.

* * *

"I'm still not so sure about sending her to this school…." His voice carried a hint of frustration.  
"What else is there? You heard the Professor – she needs to learn how to control this." Her voice in comparison was calmer and level.  
"We could just as easily get her tutors, I'm sure they are available somewhere…"  
"Really…I didn't know they advertised in the yellow pages." Her voice had gone dry. "Oh come off it, no need to go there." She laughed at his whiny voice.  
"What about her normal education, are we just going to let her abandon that?"  
"The professor said that they have programs for that, to facilitate and integrate normal lessons, should a child wish to sign up."  
"So you're comfortable with us just letting her go off to some fantasy school. It could all be some sort of scam or something."  
"Martin, how is it that different from boarding school? We were planning on sending her to one after all? And scam, really? You saw what I saw, that was no scam. Yes, she'll be learning things we won't have a clue about and things are suddenly different, but in so many ways they make sense – all those strange things we couldn't wrap our head around. It makes sense now."  
"Seems rather convenient if you ask me…"  
"Convenient? Really? You big sceptical baby. You just don't want her going because you'll miss her so much."

"Of course, I will. I was okay with a normal boarding school – but you said it yourself, this is different. You saw all that stuff at their hidden shopping district – a concept I might add that I'm still wrapping my mind around. There was freaky, crazy, stuff there."

"Look it's not that I don't get what you are saying – because I do get it, but you know as well as I do that we can't deny her this. She wants to go – she's been talking about it nonstop. A whole new world, a clean slate. Do you want to disappoint your daughter that much?"  
"Obviously I don't…." "Good then – go wash up, dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Shu!" There was some grumbling before Hermione heard her father leave. She hesitated by the door feeling uneasy. She took a deep breath before she steeled her nerves and pushed the door open and walked into the kitchen.

Her mother did not appear at all startled that she had entered and the woman turned and looked at her daughter. The two were quite similar in colouring, with both having brown hair and hazel eyes. Hermione had her mother's nose and cheeks, though hers still had a good layer of baby fat. What she did not inherit from her mother was her hair. The older woman had dark hair that fell in waves around her head; Hermione meanwhile had a mass of bushy hair forming a halo around her.  
"I assume you must have heard some or all that?" Hermione had stopped trying to figure out how her mother knew such things a long time ago. Unbeknownst to Hermione was that the young girl had a very horrible poker face.  
"Most of it…" she tried to keep her voice light and failed. Clearing her throat to stem any awkwardness, she gestured toward her mother, "What's for dinner?" Her mother gave her an appraising look before answering, "Roast duck, if it comes out right that is." Hermione cracked a grin. Her mother wasn't a horrible cook per say, she just had a healthy amount of accidents happen in the kitchen.  
"You should try and understand your father though. He's just worried." Hermione's good mood quickly evaporated and she looked away. "I know he is – it's just, I thought he would be a bit more excited for me."  
"Well he was excited, until he started to think about all the dangers to his little girl."  
"I'm not a little girl anymore." Hermione's face twisted with a scowl on her face. Her mother let out a laugh, causing her daughter to flush in embarrassment. "You know you'll always be his little girl, even when you're grey and old. He's just being a father and trying to protect you, okay?" she wrapped her little girl in a hug and squeezed her gently. "Okay…" she mumbled into her mother's chest.  
"Plus the moment he realizes that dragons are real, he'll go all nerd crazy." Hermione couldn't help the laugh that burst from her.  
"Is something funny?" Her father was stood in the doorway looking at the two of them bemused. Hermione dissolved in a fit of giggles.

* * *

September 1st found Hadrian feeling a strange blend of emotions; excitement, nervousness, sadness and a whole bevy of things he couldn't quite put into words. He was sitting in a train compartment – the Hogwarts Express was a crimson steam train. Hadrian had gaped at the train for a moment before boarding. He had had to say his goodbyes to his family away from the platform – platform , that had given Uncle Vernon a headache at the ridiculousness of wizards as he called it. Hadrian liked it though – a special platform just for wizards, hidden from mundanes or muggles as wizards liked to say. Muggles couldn't get in, as the entrance was hidden in the same way as the Leaky Cauldron. Saying goodbye had been hard – Auntie had cried, just like she cried when Dudley had gone to Smeltings the other year. Dudley had punched him in the arm and told him to give 'em hell. Uncle Vernon had hugged him and told him to have fun. Hadrian was excited yes, but this would be the first time he would be away from his family for months and it was slightly unnerving. _At least I will get to see Aunt Minnie every day_. Well he would have to remember to call her Professor but she was going to be around and that eased his worries somewhat.

Hadrian had gotten to the station early and so had secured a compartment near the back all to himself. He didn't mind though and busied himself looking out the window, looking at all the people coming onto the platform. Some used the Wall entrance as it was called – they came charging through a pillar, some stumbling and some even crashing. Hadrian loved the chaos. Some people came via some fireplaces that were lined up along the platform, appearing in bursts of green fire. That had surprised the heck out of Hadrian, and he had jerked back in surprise the first time he had seen it. He wondered what it was called, he would have to ask his Aunt at school.

Still the time flew by and the platform was soon crowded and noisy, kids who hadn't seen each other all summer called out to each other. Pets in cages let out all sorts of noises. Hadrian's eyes tried to follow all this, trying to take it all in. He saw families embracing, mother's crying, younger siblings looking jealous. He caught sight of a girl, she looked his age, with brown bushy hair coming from the Wall. Another boy, who looked a bit plump was clutching a toad of all things and was standing next to a tall older looking woman. Was that a dead bird on her head? Hadrian shook his head and let his eyes drift. His eyes caught a flash of pale blond and he saw the boy he had met in the robe shop. His father and mother all had the same sort of hair as him, pale and blond. The haughty boy was blushing red in embarrassment as his mother hugged him. Hadrian grinned, the boy must have felt mortified. A flash, well more like a blaze of red caught his attention. A large family, all redheads were on the platform, the youngest boy looked like how Hadrian had felt a bit earlier, excited with a blend of nerves. The youngest child, a girl seemed to be crying. Hadrian could understand somewhat how she must be feeling. When Dudley had gone to Smeltings Hadrian had felt horrible and lonely. He hadn't cried of course, Dudley would have never let him live that down but still, it had not been a pleasant feeling. Shaking off his memories, Hadrian continued looking at the people outside, trying to commit faces of what he thought were his fellow first years to memory. If anyone looked at the young boy in the compartment wearing his muggle cap, he paid them no mind. There was no harm in looking after all.

Soon the train whistle blew and Hadrian heard the conductor shout out that they would be leaving in five minutes. For a moment Hadrian wondered how the conductor got his voice that loud, before he shrugged and threw the thought into the _Magic I Have to Look Up_ section. With a final whistle the train started to set off. Hadrian laughed in surprise as two of the red heads, twins if he was seeing right, had to literally jump onto the train after they almost forgot their trunk on the platform. Hadrian looked at his empty compartment, was he fortunate to be alone or…. A knock interrupted his thought. The compartment door slid open and a face with freckles, blue eyes and a shock of orange red hair poked in.  
"Hey you mind if I sit here, the other compartments are nearly full?"  
"It's no bother." The other boy grinned and let out a quick thanks before pulling his trunk in. Hadrian glanced at it; it was chipped here and there and was obviously worn. He shrugged and got up to help the other boy. A bit of huffing and puffing and the two managed to put the large trunk up the rack. The other boy plopped himself onto the other seat across from Hadrian, letting out a sigh.  
"Thanks for that. Oh, I'm Ron Weasley by the way." The boy thrust out a hand and Hadrian quickly shook it. "I'm Hadrian." Ron nodded before his eyes darted up to glance at the hat on his head. Hadrian suddenly felt self-conscious. _Had the hat slipped?_ "My dad has a hat like that, muggle design and all."  
"Oh really? Umm why?"  
"He goes crazy for the stuff, likes to fiddle with some of them eclectic appliances…" Hadrian couldn't help the snort that escaped him. "Sorry, it's just that you pronounced it wrong…Its electricity. I'm pretty sure eclectic is a whole other word." Ron got a bit red in the face, "You sure? I mean it's how he says it…"  
"I'm pretty sure." Said Hadrian with a casual shrug.  
"You must be a muggleborn then."  
"Well no, I was raised by muggles; my Aunt and Uncle, but I'm a halfblood."  
"Oh that's something…." Ron seemed to realize something because he seemed to stop himself from asking something else.  
"Umm what was that like then? Being raised by muggles."  
"Seemed pretty normal to me, I didn't have something to compare it to so…yeah. This is all sort of new."  
"Well I suppose it would be for you…" The redhead seemed to come to some sort of realization because his eyes widened in excitement. "I bet you haven't yet got to see a spell huh?" Hadrian made to protest but Ron had already pulled out his wand and also a large brown scraggly looking rat. Hadrian blinked at that; _who the hell keeps a rat in their pocket?_ Ron was talking and Hadrian decided to pay attention, "…. the twins gave me a spell – it's supposed to change Scabbers' colour." Hadrian nodded uncertainly at that, what sort of name was Scabbers? Ron raised his old looking wand up, getting ready to cast. Hadrian found himself leaning forward despite himself. The compartment door slid open, startling both boys, "Has any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost his." The girl had wild bushy brown hair, a round face, with slightly large front teeth. Her brown eyes dashed all over the compartment, before they settled on Ron, specifically his wand. "No, we haven't seen a toad…"  
"Are you performing magic then? Well let's see it…" the girl then flopped down onto the seat beside Hadrian and peered intently at Ron. The redhead fidgeted uncomfortably, Hadrian couldn't blame him, this girl was intense. Ron looked at Hadrian for a moment and Hadrian gave him a shrug. Ron seemed to draw courage from this because he once again raised his wand.  
"Come ye mother of light from the east, come ye dashing father of colour, grant me and turn this lazy rat yellow!" Ron finished it with a flourish of his wand and then looked down at the rat in expectation. It was still brown and if anything, it looked even lazier.  
"Umm are you sure you did it right?" Hadrian asked his head to the side as he squinted at the rat.  
"I did it like the twins told me – I know I did…"

"Well then that must not be a spell then, it was all wrong." The girl's voice had a hint of smug in it. Ron flushed in irritation. "How would you know that it wasn't a proper spell huh? I mean can you even perform one." The girl sniffed in irritation before she looked at the redhead superiorly.  
"I would have you know that all the spells I've tried have so far worked for me…unlike you." Ron sputtered and his face flushed, going as red as his hair.  
"Oi, oi! What's going on here – Ronneikins, made friends already I see." The three kids turned to the two voices and were met with two indistinguishable faces with flaming red hair grinning at them.  
"You!" Ron stood up, his wand jabbing straight at the twins. A bolt of magic streaked out, speeding towards the two. The twins effortlessly dodged and the spell splashed against the wall, scorching it slightly. Ron gaped at his wand, looking back and forth between it and the wall.  
"Brother, I think little Ronnie is trying to kill us, why is that?" "Well I honestly have no idea, after all we have done for him, all the pranks we have done to him."  
"You gave me a dud spell, that's what you two did."  
"Did we?" the one on the left asked innocently.  
"I don't remember that happening." The one on the right said.  
"How is it our fault that you can't tell a spell from bad poetry." They grinned as Ron gaped at them. The girl beside Hadrian giggled before clamping a hand to her mouth. Ron glared at her before he huffed and sat back down. The redhead then proceeded to studiously ignore his older brothers.  
"Well since little Ronnie," the glare from Ron was ignored with ease. "- doesn't seem like introducing us…I'm George..." the one on the left said with a bow. "And I am Fred…" the one on the right bowed low, "Or is it the other way around, it gets confusing after a while." The two said in unison, grinning mad and winking exaggeratedly. Hadrian chuckled; how long did they practice that he wondered. "Well I'm Hadrian and this is…umm."  
"I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger."  
"Well it's nice to meet you two…" "Indeed, if you want some mischief managed, find us."  
"Umm thank you." Hadrian said uncertainly. These two were a whirlwind to be around.  
"Good man." George said with a smile and the two turned to leave. "Wait!" Hadrian turned startled to Hermione, but she ignored him. "Have you two seen a toad? Neville's lost his."

"Can't say I have, what about you?" the other twin shook his head. Hermione looked a tad disappointed. "Well why don't you just find a prefect and have them summon the little bugger for you?"  
"Wait, you can do that?"  
"Well yes, not us obviously…" George scratched his cheek nervously. "…our summoning charms are still a bit iffy, but a prefect will help you in a jiffy."  
"Oh thank you, I should have thought of asking a prefect…"  
"Well it's perfectly fine that you didn't think of it. You're only a firstie, but don't worry. Your elders are here to help." Hermione huffed in irritation. Before she could say anything else to show her displeasure the twins left. She turned to Ron and opened her mouth, "…don't. I already know they can be a pain." She closed her mouth. For a moment there was an awkward silence before with a rustling of cloth, Hermione got up. "I better go find those prefects. Trevor isn't going to find himself." Hadrian surmised that Trevor was the missing toad.  
"See you later then…"  
"I hope not." Ron muttered under his breath, soft enough that Hermione didn't hear him. She left the boys alone and Ron sighed in relief.  
"I'm glad she's gone. Mental she is."  
"Well I wouldn't call her mental, a bit forceful maybe but she seemed nice enough." Hadrian frowned at the other boy who looked at him in honest confusion. "Nice? She mocked me the moment she got here. Talking about my spell…"  
"Well it's not like she was wrong…"  
"I know that – she didn't have to be smug about it though." Hadrian shrugged, he really had nothing to say to that. Luckily, he didn't have to because once again the door opened. Familiar blond hair and pale pointed face. Hadrian immediately recognized the boy from the shop in the magical alley.  
"You're that boy I met in the clothing store…" Hadrian said with a surprised smile. The boy who had been about to speak looked a bit startled. He had two other boys, taller, wider and meatier flanking him. The blonde looked at him, his eyes flitting over his form quickly before they settled on his cap. "You're still wearing that ridiculous hat I see…" he said with an upturned nose. Hadrian grinned, not at all offended, he found the boy rather amusing. "It was a gift you see…"  
"Ahh some gift – I never got your name…"  
"Hadrian. You are?" The boy seemed to swell up and gave off an important air about him.  
"My name is Draco, Draco…"  
"Malfoy." The two acquaintances turned to Ron. The redhead was looking at the newcomer with a glare. Draco it seemed had barely paid attention to the other occupant of the compartment. But now he looked at Ron, he took in the worn and somewhat frayed clothes and the flame coloured hair, the freckles and came to one conclusion.  
"Weasley." His face twisted into a real sneer now, full of disdain. Hadrian could literally feel the dislike the two boys had for each other.  
"Um do you two know each other perhaps…?" The two boys didn't stop glaring at the other.  
"Know him? No. But father always did say that if you see something worn, unkempt and red then it must be a Weasley." Draco gave a superior smirk as Ron flushed with anger.  
"Well your father can shove it, everyone knows that he is nothing but…"  
"One of the governors of the school. I would watch what you say to me Weasley, you may not like how it ends." Ron gritted his teeth and swallowed the insult that threatened to escape him.  
"I thought so…" the boy then turned to Hadrian. His grey eyes lost some of their intensity. "I suggest you not hang around such riff raff Hadrian. You seem like a sensible sort; don't let the company you keep drag you down with it."  
"Umm thanks for the advice." Said Hadrian. He winced as Ron threw him a wounded look. Draco nodded satisfied and turned to his two lackeys. "Crabbe, Goyle, come on. Potter is obviously not here, let's keep looking." Hadrian jerked in surprise, luckily nobody paid him any mind. With a last sneer at Ron and a nod towards Hadrian, Draco left. Hadrian was left with an ill-tempered Ron. They sat in silence, with Ron stewing and Hadrian waiting for his new sort of friend to blow up.  
"You never said you were friends with bloody Malfoy."  
"We aren't friends…" Hadrian shrugged irritated. "He and I met at Madam Malkin's, that's all and we barely spoke."  
"Of course you met there…" Hadrian stared confused at that, what did the other boy mean by that. "Well you two seemed pretty friendly to me." Hadrian rolled his eyes at that.  
"What's your problem with him anyway? You two were at each other's throats there…"  
"He's a Malfoy," Ron said like that was all the explanation Hadrian needed. Hadrian frowned, he wasn't having any of that. "So what if he's a Malfoy?" Ron stared at him like he had grown a second head.  
"His family is into all sorts of shady things, everyone knows that. The Malfoy family are bad news."  
"Everyone knows?" Ron nodded emphatically. "Then why does nobody do anything about it then?"

Ron looked uncomfortable for a minute, and looked around the compartment. Hadrian was surprised with this cautious and paranoid side of the redhead. Ron leaned forward and Hadrian followed suit.  
"Well my dad says that the Malfoy family has connections and deep pockets and that lets them get away with all sorts of things." Hadrian leaned back in his seat. He didn't really have any reason to not believe what Ron was telling him but he still had a hard time believing it. Draco when he had met him the first time had been arrogant and the second time had also shown that he was a jerk, but despite that Draco had been somewhat friendly. It had only gotten messy when he met Ron. Hadrian shook his head, this wasn't any of his business, he had only just met the two and barely knew anything about them. It was best to just ignore it and have an open mind he supposed.  
"Alright Ron, I hear you." The redhead seemed relieved to hear that and nodded seriously before he too leaned back in his seat.

There was still some tension in the air but that was soon dispelled when a lady with a cart full of all sorts of food and sweets came knocking. Hadrian admittedly got over excited and may have splurged a bit and bought a lot of the treats. Still as he reasoned there were two of them and surely anything left over could just be eaten on the next day. Ron had been strangely reluctant to help himself to the pile of sweets when Hadrian had offered. But Hadrian insisted and eventually the boy relented. Ron it turns out rather liked sweets and he liked talking. Soon the compartment was filled with stories and laughter. Hadrian enjoyed hearing about what it was like growing up in a wizard household. Ron did not quite understand why his knew friend was so interested in hearing about his home but he still indulged him with a few stories. And so the hours went by like that and the train chugged along the countryside eating the miles. Hadrian learnt of the most popular wizards sport, Quidditch. The greatest game there ever was or ever will be, according to Ron. A sport played on brooms and with four balls and six goals. Ron to Hadrian was a font of information and he enjoyed every minute of it. The sky outside the trees grew darker and the terrain changed. The two only noticed this when Hermione dropped by again and mentioned that they should change into their robes. It seemed that they were about to arrive.

* * *

Padma had been excited, the idea of going to a school in a train had seemed quite novel and so she had amused herself by watching the terrain go by outside their window. It had almost reminded her of her flying carpet back home; without the wind in her hair of course. For a while that had been nice, sitting in the compartment with her sister and discussing what they thought the school would be like. But soon she got bored, there was only so much they could talk about a place neither of them had been to after all. Luckily though they had made tentative friends who had shared their compartment. Two girls had joined them; Lavender Brown and Su Li. There was not much she could say about Su, other than that the girl was rather small, quiet and seemed rather studious. The pale girl had spent the entire journey after introducing herself with her head buried in a book. Padma couldn't really judge the girl after all Padma had also brought a book or two to read. Lavender on the other had was talkative and airy, her laughs came easy and she rarely seemed to lack anything to say. She, unsurprisingly to Padma, got along with Parvati, her sister. The two had spent the journey chattering and gossiping, imagining life at school, all the stuff they would do, what houses they might end up in. Padma had been certainly been interested in the houses. She had a feeling that she and Su would fit in Ravenclaw.

Sooner than Padma had expected they heard the announcement that they would be pulling into Hogsmeade Station. Padma tried to peer outside her window but could barely make out anything, other than a large blocky building. The train came to a stop with a drawn-out hiss and whistle. The four girls looked at each other before shrugging and getting out. Their luggage would be taken care, or so they had been told. They joined the other students who were heading out the train. Her first step outside and Padma realized she was no longer home, there was a chill in the air, the first preludes to winter. She looked around, the older students seemed to be heading to one direction and after sharing a glance with her sister they made to follow.  
"First years, first years, ov'r here. First years…" The voice boomed across the station. How did I miss that? She asked herself. There wading amidst the various students was a man. He was massive and towered over everyone there and he wasn't even standing on the raised platform. In his hand was a lantern that glowed warmly and illuminated the little bit of his face that could be seen. He was very hairy with a large busy beard that reached down to his chest and shaggy dark hair that trailed down his back.  
"Hagrid!" the young voice was from a boy wearing a cap. The man's dark eyes seemed to light up at the sight of the boy. "You alright Hadrian?" Padma couldn't quite see his face from where she was standing but the boy seemed to grin. The giant of a man nodded. "First years come along." The boy and three of what she assumed were his friends followed him. Without another choice most of the assembled first years followed.

The path they took was rocky, winding and somewhat slippery. They went downhill and in the dark Hagrid's lantern was barely any help. Luckily though it wasn't too dark out and though they had to go slow, they made their way without too much trouble. Soon they arrived and Padma looked askance at their transport. Boats, small rickety dangerous looking, were bobbing up and down near the shore of a dark lake.

"C'mon, four to a boat now."

"Are you crazy? These things look like a hazard." Padma didn't know who said that but she certainly shared the sentiment. So did a lot of the others.  
"These are perfectly safe, see?" To demonstrate, he quickly got into one of the boats, he only barely managed to fit in it and he couldn't sit down, but other than a few wobbles as he got in, the boat seemed fine. Still nobody dared to be the first to brave a boat.  
"Atta boy!" The boy in the cap had recklessly jumped into one of the boats. He turned to look at the other first years and Padma got her first look at him. Pale healthy skin, a somewhat round face, a toothy smile and the greenest eyes she had ever seen. The boy seemed to have opened the gates as people went ahead and climbed into boats. The boy was joined by his friends and soon everyone was in a boat. Padma was huddled next to her sister, they were sharing the boat with Lavender and Su. Huddled like this in small boats, in the dark, the smaller girl looked rather vulnerable. Padma sought out her hand in the dark, it was cold. The girl turned her startled dark eyes to Padma. Padma squeezed Su's smaller hand and offered her a small but warm smile. "Its okay to be nervous, but everything will be fine, ok?" Padma could feel the tension ease in the other girl, it was still there but lesser. She didn't let go of her hand. She noticed Parvati giving her a knowing look but she ignored her sister.  
"Forward!" a few people shrieked, startled as the boats shot forward into the water. Padma looked up, there were a few clouds above them but they did not completely obscure the stars out and about. Conversation slowly drifted in from the boats nearby.  
"Why do we have to use the boats?" It was a girl's voice that Padma unsurprisingly didn't recognize.  
"They're just being bloody mental is what I think?"  
"Ronald!"  
"Don't call me that! Imagine if one of us fell in here. Say Nev can you swim?"

She never got to hear how that conversation ended as Hagrid told them to duck. They plunged into darkness – a cave of some sort with vines growing over the entrance. Padma tried not to shudder as the vines brushed over her. "This is so freaky…" she heard Lavender mutter and couldn't help but grunt in agreement. Why couldn't they have just gone with the older students. When she raised her head, she got her answer. "Wow…"

Wow was right. There perched along the cliff that jutted out into the water, stood the school. A massive castle overlooking the lake, its windows shone with warm light and behind it the cold light of the stars danced. It was majestic, it was beautiful. It was a sight that Padma was sure would forever reside in her mind unblemished. Soon enough they came to a small hidden cove and dock. The group quickly disembarked and followed Hagrid up a set of stairs. Padma wasn't the only one who sighed in content when they entered the warm castle. She could hear voices and murmuring off to the side and she glanced to her left. Massive doors, carved with vines and woodland creatures. That must be the dining hall, she surmised. Hagrid led them off to an antechamber off to the side. He told them to stay put and slipped out of the room. For a moment there was silence as the kids looked around the room, unsure about what to do.

"Why do they us have sneaking about you reckon?" A boy with freckles and brown hair nudged his friend.

"It has to do with the sorting – they must be getting it ready."

"How do they sort us?" This seemingly innocuous question seemed to open the floodgates. There had been a nervous tension in the air, ever since they had left the train. It had been bubbling under the surface and now finally it burst out and the room rang with nervous, frantic cries.  
"I heard they have us demonstrate our magic…."  
"What!? But my parents didn't teach me anything…"  
"What if it's a test, a written test? I'm not so good at those…"  
"My brothers told me we have to fight a troll…" this was said by a red headed boy and a few looked at him askance. One boy beside him, brown-haired and slightly round nearly choked, gasping, his face paling rapidly. Padma winced and clutched at her necklace, concentrating.  
"Don't…" Parvati quickly took her hand away, but it hovered only a few inches from her sister's shoulder.  
"Are you okay?" Padma ignored the questioning eyes of Su and offered her sister a smile but it came out more like a grimace. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly she tried to clear her mind, focusing on her breathing and the sensation of her pounding heart. Her necklace warmed in her hand and slowly she felt the pressure and push of emotion lessen against her mind. Once she felt it all retreat to the fringes of her perception, she opened her eyes. Su Li was still looking up at her and Padma offered her a reassuring smile, the other girl's eyes bored into her, curious before she nodded back. Padma turned to Parvati; her sister was looking at her like she might break at any minute.  
"Parvati, honestly I'm fine. It just caught me by surprise is all." Parvati's face cycled through a few emotions before settling on annoyed. "Papa told you to keep the necklace active, why would you…"  
Something flickered across Padma's senses and she cut her sister off.  
"You can be annoyed with me later, the professor is here." Before Parvati could say anything more, the door to the antechamber opened and in walked a professor.

The witch was tall, with dark hair pulled back, pale eyes and a stern expression. For a moment she went unnoticed and the group of first years continued talking among themselves. And then for the briefest moment her presence swelled, brushing against them like a stinging wind. Students left and right jerked and flinched in surprise. Padma felt the professor's aura crash into her and tried not to lose control of her own. She felt the professor, nay she could almost taste her presence. She could feel herself slipping and then it was gone. Just like it had come, the show of strength disappeared and Padma found herself breathless. She looked around the room and could see some others as breathless as herself. Everyone had been affected, to varying degrees.  
"Now that I have your attention…." She sent a glare at a pale haired boy causing him to flinch. "…welcome to Hogwarts. As some of you know I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. Soon we shall begin our sorting ceremony, to decide which house best suits your personality. While you are here, your house is your family, they will support you, care for you, share in your triumphs and defeats. Your merits will earn your house points and your rule breaking will lose your house points. I expect you all to comport yourselves favourably." She gave them all a steely look, daring them to disagree with her.

They made their way to the dining hall, the Great Hall, in two lines. Padma was behind her sister, with Su Li behind her and beside her walked the boy wearing the hat. The great doors to the hall opened and she gasped; it was stunning. Four long tables flanked the hall, two on each side – full of students. At the front was a raised dais with a long table on it, the teacher's table. They came to stand before the teacher's table, their backs to it. The hall was warm and full of light – light from hundreds, thousands of candles, candles that were suspended above them, floating in mid-air. Banners fluttered in an imaginary wind above each table. To her far left a red banner with a rearing golden lion – Gryffindor, house of the brave. Then there was a blue banner with a bronze eagle – Ravenclaw, house of the wise and intelligent. To her right was a golden banner with a black solemn badger – Hufflepuff, house of the loyal and hardworking. Finally, to the far right, an emerald green banner with a silver snake coiled and poised to strike – Slytherin, the house of the cunning and ambitious. Above all this the night sky, full of stars glittered at them, the ceiling absent.  
"It's amazing…" the words were whispered but she turned to look at the boy walking beside her. His large green eyes were turned up toward the sky.  
"Yes, it is." he glanced at her and smiled for some reason. Padma turned away, flushing. She clutched at her necklace and calmed herself, pushing back on the echoes that threatened to envelope her. The hall was full of people and even as the first years went down the middle the murmur of voices continued, increasing in volume as the older students made their comments.  
"It's not really opened to the sky…" the girl from before, with bushy hair started to say. "It's enchanted, to reflect the night sky. I read all about it in Hogwarts A History." Padma felt a grimace pull at her face. The girl was so condescending and she could feel her superiority seeping through. Padma opened her mouth but the boy beat her to it, "You're right of course…" the girl preened. "…but how did Ravenclaw manage it I wonder? Maintaining such a spell for long – do you think she used a Charm-Rune hybrid and looped it through a stability matrix while grounding it on all four axes of the ward scheme…?" he trailed off as he saw both their blank faces. Padma had not understood a single thing there and the other girl was similar, except she seemed to have been offended. The girl was red faced, her face pinched in a pained grimace of thought. She opened her mouth to say something then closed it, that happened a few times, before she moved away with a huff. Embarrassment, confusion, irritation – they were all clearer than day to Padma.

"That was mean, you know." Despite her words, she couldn't help the smile that twitched at her lips.  
"What do you mean?" he looked bemused – and she could tell it was genuine, he really didn't know what he had done. "I suppose it doesn't matter now." He frowned at her words, she could almost see the gears in his mind working something out.  
"You're strange…" he said finally, his head cocked to the side. She couldn't help herself, she laughed. She stopped quickly though when her sister and several others turned to look at her. She turned to look at the boy and he was smiling softly at her. He felt warm in that moment.  
"I like strange things…" his grin was full of mischief and Padma felt her face reflect it. She decided to be reckless and thrust out her arm. "I'm Padma…" he looked at her briefly before he took her hand, "I'm Hadrian." She bit back a gasp – nervous, excited, curious, hungry and tired. In that brief moment she caught a clear picture of him and then it was gone, he had dropped her hand.  
"Is everything…"  
"You can't seriously expect us to put on that dirty old thing." Padma turned to look at Lavender, her face was scrunched up in mild disgust at what professor McGonagall had placed in front of them. It was a hat – old, dusty, full of tears and mould, and it was sitting on a stool. They used a hat to sort them? Padma almost snorted. Then the hat began to sing and she gaped. One of the tears near the rim was its mouth and its voice, hard and gravely come out and burst into song. Padma could barely follow the song and then people were applauding and cheering and the hat had the audacity to take a bow.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, she winced as McGonagall placed the hat on her, which fell right down over her eyes, and only her pigtails kept it from swallowing her head whole. A moment's pause — "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered, whopped and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table, her face flushed with excitement and embarrassment. For the first time Padma noticed the ghosts floating about the room – specifically the rather fat silvery figure that was waving to the newest addition to Hufflepuff.

"Bones, Susan!" a pale girl with red hair and freckles was next to sit down.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah and the two obvious friends grinned ang giggled, happy to be together.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. "Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender!" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. The cheering here was equally loud now and suddenly the ceremony was in full swing. Not everyone had a quick sorting, the hat taking a minute or so to decide. The bushy haired girl, Granger Hermione, took a while to sort. They could see her biting her lip in agitation and Padma felt the bit of it that leaked out of the girl before the hat announced her to be a Gryffindor. Padma found herself surprised by the hat's choice; she'd thought the girl was a shoe in for Ravenclaw – she seemed to be a know it all. For others though, the sorting went much faster. Malfoy, Draco – who she had met on the train briefly, barely had the hat touch him before it bellowed out SLYTHERIN. He joined the house of the serpents to much cheering.  
"No surprise there, that's what Malfoys are good for." Padma glanced at the redheaded boy who was scowling at the newest Slytherin. She shrugged; it was none of her business. The numbers dwindled and then, "Patil, Padma." She blinked. It was her turn and she suddenly felt nervous. Parvati gave her a shove and she was suddenly seated on the stool. Faces, hundreds of them, from across the hall peered at her. Her own eyes darted across the hall searching and finally settled on the startling green close to her and then darkness.  
"Hmm, oh my. What do we have here?" the voice was all around her, coming from all directions. Padma felt a spike of panic, what was this. "Shouldn't you be familiar with this – ah you are only capable of feeling for the moment, you will progress in time." Panic bled into dread and Padma stiffened; the hat was in her mind, she could feel it. This was unacceptable. "Peace child, all this is between us, I can never divulge what I find in your mind. My very magic ensures that." Padma calmed slightly and her mind kicked into gear working furiously, she could feel the truth in the hat's words and what it said did make sense. There was no way that the authorities would let the hat exist unless it was bound in such tight ways – mind magics as she well knew were dangerous and highly monitored. A deep gravelly laugh reverberated in her mind. "What a wonderful mind you have, with a thirst for knowledge and not so little ambition. While your ambition is great and quite noble, it is ill suited to Slytherin, that plus your gift, well – it better be RAVENCLAW." The last bit was shouted out to the hall. The Ravenclaw table burst into cheer and feeling ambivalent she went and took her seat. And then it was her sisters turn, GRYFFINDOR! Padma swallowed the tightness in her throat. This wasn't unexpected, she told herself. Twins they may be, but her sister and she were two different people. Still her eyes flashed towards her sister who seemed oblivious and was chatting with Lavender. Padma looked away. "Potter, Hadrian." The hall plunged into silence so quickly she wondered if someone had bewitched them all. Still, she found herself leaning forward as much as everybody else, looking at the small group of first years left. Oh…The boy from before, Hadrian – she blinked, how had she not connected the dots? He stepped forward, his own hat in hand, sat and had the hat placed on his head. The whole hall held their breath and waited….and waited. This turned out to be the longest sorting yet and soon people started to get impatient – fidgeting in their seats. People started grumbling, complaining, their neighbours shushed them, "What if he hears you?" Padma didn't think Hadrian could hear them. She hadn't been able to hear anyone while she was under. Still they waited and Padma wondered if this had anything to do with why the boy was so famous. Even in India they had heard of the Boy-Who-Lived. RAVENCLAW! The shout came so abruptly that some people were startled out of their seats and then there was sound. Like a blast of thunder rolling across the hills, the Ravenclaw table exploded into cheers, the table was banged and feet stomped. Hadrian, after an encouraging nod from McGonagall made his way to the table. He was warmly welcomed, people shook his hand, slapped his back and one bold girl planted a wet kiss across his face. Hadrian in all this looked bemused, startled and distinctly uncomfortable. All the while the Gryffindor table bemoaned their loss. Hadrian sat next to another first year, Terry Boot, who immediately straightened up hoping to make a good impression.

Padma barely paid the rest of the ceremony any mind and it soon wrapped up. The moment McGonagall finished wrapping the scroll, the headmaster stood up. Albus Dumbledore was an older man, with a grey mane of hair and an equally grey beard that was long enough to brush the belt of his robes of blue and silver. Bright piercing blue eyes stared down at the hall. His gaze held the students at sway and then he spoke, "Tuck in." People gasped in delight, the golden plates and dishes that had graced the tables, previously empty were now laden with food. Dishes of all sorts were on display, a veritable feast. Nobody wasted time and soon everyone was piling their plates full of food and their cups full of drink. Conversation was free and light, laughter danced in the air. Padma could feel all the positivity and she basked in it, feeling euphoric.  
"Give this a try Potter." Terry handed Hadrian a goblet full of some orange coloured drink. Hadrian nodded carefully. "You can call me Hadrian if you like, you know." He took a sip and immediately started coughing. "Wow – uh that's too sweet."  
"I know right? Isn't that cool?" Terry grinned at Hadrian, his lips stained orange.  
"Here have this." Padma reached over and slid another goblet to Hadrian, he looked at it warily.  
"What's in it?"  
"Grape juice, with a fizz…" she took a sip of her own drink. Emboldened he took a quick sip of his and hummed.  
"We like?" she grinned cheekily at him and he grinned back. He raised his goblet and clinked it with hers.  
"We like."

The first years soon got to know one another, going around introducing themselves. Anthony Goldstein had dark blonde hair, brown eyes and an easy smile. Terry Boot had dark hair and blue eyes and seemed to be on a sugar high. Michael Corner had black hair and brown eyes and seemed to be in charge of keeping anymore drinks from Terry. There were four other girls other than Padma herself, Su Li, who Padma had already met, turned out to be the smallest of the group. Then there was Lisa Turpin, with darkish red hair. Morag McDougal whose pale face had a smattering of freckles and finally there was Mandy Brocklehurst, who was rather excitable, "You're Harry Potter!"

Hadrian cringed and his smiled became strained. "Er… yes. But I prefer Hadrian. Only my Aunt calls me Harry."  
"You'll have to forgive Mandy; she sometimes lets her excitement get away from her." Padma blinked as she processed what Morag had said, excitement. _Damn it!_ She closed her eyes and pushed outwards with her mind. Her hand wrapped around her necklace and slowly she felt the unnatural boldness and excitement ebb out of her. She opened her eyes and tuned into the ongoing conversation  
"…so yea primary school was fun I suppose."  
"Wow, I wish I had gone to a muggle school." Mandy gushed; her eyes longing. Hadrian looked at her confused. "You didn't go?" she shook her head, "Did any of you go?" They all shook their heads.  
"Well don't look so surprised Potter, most purebloods never send any of their kids and half-bloods don't usually go either." The group of first years collectively turned to the older boy. He seemed oblivious to them staring and was peering intently at a sausage on his fork. "It's sort of an unspoken law. Most kids have bursts of accidental magic. We most certainly can't have them exposing us because of a bad boo-boo." The boy then proceeded to tear into his sausage.  
"Huh my dad never explained it like that at all." Anthony said finally.  
"So where did you guys go to school then? If you did that is?" Hadrian finally asked. The others looked around themselves before Morag decided to be spokeswoman, "Well there are beginner schools dotted about the country, in most wizard settlements. We learnt all sorts of boring stuff like math and language…" Mandy giggled at her friend's sour attitude.  
"Don't mind her, she was just miffed that we never got to learn any spells."  
"Well I for one hated that meditating stuff…" Terry said, his eyes were shifting about quickly, it honestly worried Padma. Quickly the discussion dissolved into all that they hated about their old schools.

Padma noticed that Hadrian wasn't taking part and he seemed to be staring at her. She blinked and resisted the urge to fidget.  
"Was it the same for you in India?"  
"How did you know I was from India?"  
"I think it's your accent; its exotic – " He frowned his head tilting to the side, "– plus your last name is a give-away."  
"Oh – well it was about the same I suppose, though I was home schooled along with my sister…" she glanced over at the Gryffindor table – Parvati looked suitably excited. She turned back to Hadrian who offered her a simple smile.  
"Tell me about India…" the smile Padma graced him was small but genuine.

Soon though the food was gone and conversation petered out. Padma was so stuffed that she felt warm and drowsy. Dumbledore stood up and the hall quietened.  
"A few words before we retire. First years should note that the Forbidden forest is named for that very reason, it is forbidden." His eyes to sweep across the room only to linger on a pair of red headed twins at the Gryffindor table.  
"All upperclassmen who wish to attend language classes must submit their names to their respective prefects by the end of the week. Let's give enough time for Professor Fletch to prepare hmm." A ripple of laughter went through the class and one professor, a witch with blond hair had the decency to blush.  
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."  
"And finally, quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch."

With the announcements over, the first years found themselves bundled and ushered out by the prefects. As they left hall Padma glanced towards her sister and their eyes met. Parvati gave her a smile and waved to her, Padma felt relief flood through her and she waved back. She could do this. The prefects took them along the long corridors and steep stairs of the castle. Padma should have paid more attention but she was drowsy and was half dragging Su, who looked half asleep already. Soon they came upon a large bronze door and it had a large raven shaped knocker. The prefect, a fifth year named Penelope if Padma remembered right turned to them.  
"Now this is the entrance to our common room, and to get in you have to be clever…" she grinned impishly at them. "You have to solve a riddle and if you can't well…" she shrugged then took a step toward the door. "I request entry." The knocker twitched, coming alive and opened its mouth, "What can you hold without touching it at all?" Penelope turned to the first years and gave them an encouraging nod. The children all looked at one another. Padma tried to think but she just felt too sleepy to hold a thought long enough. "A conversation." Hadrian let out a large yawn.  
"Good man." Anthony pat Hadrian's back as the door swung open to reveal stairs. They grumbled as they went up and finally found themselves in the common room. Padma barely took in the room before she said her goodbyes to her housemates. With lead feet she dragged Su up the stairs leading up to the girl's room and soon she was sleeping in a comfortable bed. Hogwarts did not seem so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N: Well here's another chapter. Read, Enjoy & Review**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter **

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**IT'S MAGIC**

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_It is our birth-right, our gift – that which separates us from the filth and mongrels out there. Make no mistake; we are demigods….  
__ The Disciple_

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Hogwarts, as Hadrian soon found out, was deliberately confusing and utterly made no sense. The stairs moved at the most inconvenient times, some doors were only doors at some time of the day, some led to nowhere at all or led you back to where you started. Some rooms would just decide to move on a whim. Asking directions from the portraits often got you lost and then worst of all was Peeves, a poltergeist. Peeves was a menace and delighted in causing chaos wherever he went. He rather enjoyed tormenting the first years and Filch the caretaker. Despite all these things Hadrian could quite confidently say that he loved the school. Everything was so new and wondrous, how had he gone about living without this for the past ten years? Learning magic proved to be better than he had imagined. For the first time he wasn't leaving his classroom bored out of his mind, not that the teachers would have let him mind you. He found that he enjoyed the variety that not only the lessons brought but the professors themselves.

"Now can someone tell me what charm magic is?" Immediately a hand shot up. The diminutive professor smiled in delight. "Yes, Miss Granger."  
"A charm is a spell that adds certain properties to an object or individual, focusing on what an object does and not what it is; the charm does not change the object's essential nature." Professor Flitwick clapped, delighted. "Take five points for Gryffindor miss Granger. That was book perfect." Hermione flushed, pleased.

They were in the Charms classroom, having their first charms class; a class shared by Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Hadrian liked the way the class was set up. Much like a theatre, the students were on one side, their seats and desks raised as you went towards the back. The seats wrapped around in a half circle, leaving a clear circular area, where their professor stood. Professor Flitwick, was an excitable man, a laugh never far from his lips. He was also the Head of Ravenclaw, so Hadrian had met him beforehand when he had gone to collect his class schedule. The professor was also short, very short. Hadrian estimated the professor was only a bit taller than the average goblin. Still his stature did nothing to detract from the professor's presence in the room, that plus the fact that he was standing on a stack of boxes.

"As miss Granger has said, charms change what an object does, not what it is. As such every time you cast a charm, your intent must always be very clear in your mind." The man raised his arm, his wand trailed in the air and he swiped it at a box off to his side. A streak of light hit the box and it shivered before it expanded, growing in size. Another flick saw the box, now three times the original size, lift off the ground and hover in front of the professor – excited murmuring broke out amongst the students. Throughout all this the professor never stopped smiling. A negligent flick later and the box was back to normal and in its original position. "Now that little demonstration is a bit complicated for you right now, so we will start with something simple. Lumos!" The professor splayed his hand out, palm face up and there in his palm rested a ball of light. Hadrian found himself smiling.  
"Now class, I want you all to try and cast this spell, it is pretty handy and will help you get a feel for your magic. Remember what I said; intent. Keep your intention very clear in your mind." He made a sweeping gesture and the room dimmed slightly, the many windows gaining a dark tint. Hadrian assumed it was to help them produce light easier.

Soon the room was full of murmurs and shouts, "Lumos!" Hadrian was sitting between Anthony and Terry. Anthony jabbed his wand forward forcefully and shouted the incantation – his wand lit up and let out a large bang. With a startled yelp the boy dropped his wand, he gave the piece of wood an accusing stare. "Not so forcefully Mr Goldstein." The professor's words drifted up to them. Terry snickered and got a glower from Anthony. "I'd like to see you do better Boot." Terry smirked confidently and brought out his wand. With a flourish Terry cast the spell, "Lumos." The tip of his wand glowed, it was fainter than the professor's demonstration, but it was steady.  
"Good, good Mr. Boot. Now just add a bit more power to brighten it…." Terry frowned in concentration and slowly the light got brighter. Terry threw Anthony a smug look.  
"Take five points Miss Granger, and you as well Mr. Boot." Hadrian looked around the room and noticed that Hermione's wand was held aloft, its tip casting a soft light. She had a triumphant smirk on her face. Hermione was not the only one who had gotten the spell right, several people had their wands alight. He noticed that most of the Ravenclaws had cast the spell successfully, though he noticed that Padma would grimace and frown on occasion and her light would flicker briefly. Professor Flitwick seemed to have noticed too because he glided up to her on his box and murmured something only she could hear. Soon her wand stopped flickering. Neville seemed to have trouble with his wand; it was alternating between smoking and emitting sparks. Hadrian thought that looked rather dangerous.  
"I've noticed that you haven't tried to cast the spell Mr Potter – is there a problem?" Hadrian jerked back as the professor popped out of nowhere to hover by their desk. Anthony cursed in surprise and his wand let out a bang and flash.  
"Language Mr Goldstein." The small professor's eyes sparkled in amusement, before he then turned serious eyes to Hadrian. Suddenly Hadrian could feel a lot of eyes on him. The professor's words had drawn attention to him, it made him feel uncomfortable.  
"Well Mr. Potter? How may I help?" Hadrian flicked his eyes quickly around the room, curious and sometimes confused gazes met him.  
"Well – I – um I don't need help sir. I can already cast the spell." The professor raised an eyebrow and for a moment Hadrian marvelled at how much the professor could curve his eyebrow. The professor gestured at him and Hadrian nodded. He felt a tremor of nervousness go through him. He had never done this in front of a lot of people, it was usually just him and Dudley. Aware that everyone was looking at him now, he kept his eyes firmly on his professor and raised his hand. He felt the wand on his wrist holster grow warm and then he flexed his magic. There was a beat of silence before Professor Flitwick clapped his hands delighted, "Well done Mr Potter. Take twenty points for your house, for casting the spell properly, wandlessly and silently." Hadrian looked to his sides and noticed that his desk mates were looking at him dumfounded. The look was everywhere on the room and Hadrian felt self-conscious. He closed his hand and extinguished the spell. He sunk down into his seat and tried to ignore how Hermione's eyes were burning a hole into the side of his face. He tried his best to ignore the appraising looks of his classmates or the fact that Terry kept throwing him furtive looks.

The moment class ended, Hadrian was on his feet and out of the classroom quickly before anyone had a chance to talk to him. He had transfiguration and decided that he might as well be early. A few staircases and some twists and turns later and he was opening the door to the transfiguration classroom. He wasn't the first one there; the first year Hufflepuffs were all seated there. The moment he opened the door, conversation seemed to stop for a moment. Hadrian stared awkwardly at the other students. "Umm, hi?"

"Hello." "Hiya." "Hey." Hadrian nodded and then, ignoring the stares and finger pointing, made his way to the back, the Hufflepuffs had taken up most of the front seats. He noticed a large grey cat sat imperiously at the desk and smirked. Soon after his housemates entered the classroom. He noticed Padma look around before her eyes settled on him, Hadrian tensed as she purposefully made her way to his desk.  
"Is this seat taken?"  
"No you can have it." She murmured her thanks before she sat beside him. "You forgot this." She placed his notebook in front of him. Hadrian stared at it for a moment before he murmured his thanks. Padma nodded at him, seemingly unbothered by his attitude. He noticed that she was staring at the cat, rather intensely. Did she know, he wondered? Soon everyone was seated. A few of his fellow students looked around, "Where's McGonagall?" The question floated about the room. The cat stretched before with a single graceful leap, it jumped off the table. Midway, the cat shifted – fur melted and elongated into flowing robes, the tail shrunk into the body, and the whole body grew. Booted feet instead of paws landed on the stone floor with nary a sound.  
"That was wicked!"  
"Thank you, Mr Smith, I aim to please." Professor McGonagall swept her eyes across the room. A few of the students fidgeted under her stare.  
"Transfiguration. The changing of one object into another. The change of form." She waved her wand towards her desk and it shifted, growing fur and a dark mane. The desk turned lion opened its mouth showing gleaming teeth. She waved her wand again and it shifted into a monkey, before sprouting feathers and an ostrich was peering at them. A final wave saw the ostrich revert back to desk. "Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn here. I expect you to follow my instructions or there will be consequences. I do not want to be the one to explain to your guardians why you turned yourself into a striped baboon." A few of the students laughed but soon realized that she was not joking. "Open chapter one of your transfiguration textbook, we shall begin with the basics." Soon the class was learning theory and taking notes. Professor McGonagall encouraged questions, of which there were a lot. She was not against going back to explain a point a few times when someone did not understand. Hadrian soon forgot his earlier misgivings from his Charms class. After a while the professor gave them each some matches and told them to try and turn one into a needle. A basic transfiguration spell and exercise. It was not going well. McGonagall went around the room checking on progress, but otherwise she remained silent.  
"Damnit!" Padma cursed quietly for the umpteenth time next to Hadrian. He glanced at her sideways and noticed that a few strands of her hair had come loose from her braid. She was frowning at the match in front of her – the transfiguration had stopped halfway, leaving one side wood and the other a curious mix of metal and wood – the metal seemed to have grain in it. She turned to look at him and he quickly looked at back down at his book. "Are you going to help me or keep pretending to read that book?" she said. "I'm not pretending." He said unconvincingly.  
"Then why have you been on the same page for the last five minutes?"  
"It's a good read…" he shrugged trying to act casual.  
"Please Hadrian." He looked over to her and sighed. "What makes you think I can even help? I haven't even tried to cast this spell…"  
"Exactly, just like back in charms class." She said like it was obvious. "That was different, I've never cast this spell before." He pulled out his wand, the dark wood thrummed in his hand. He noticed her eyes flick to it for a few moments. "I don't know, you seem rather confident to me, do you really want to disappoint a lady?" Hadrian snorted, he couldn't help it. She grinned at him, her eyes shining. He pulled up a match, it was nothing special, just a random piece of wood. He ignored how Padma seemed to become more alert, leaning forward slightly. He focused on the wood and in his mind's eye he saw it change – becoming harder, stronger and gaining a silver sheen. With that image firmly in his mind, he cast the spell, going through the motion that McGonagall had demonstrated. "I knew it." There on their shared desk was a needle. "Huh, I guess you were right." He said looking at his needle critically. "You sound surprised." He opened his mouth to answer but thought better of it and closed it. "So can you help me figure it out now?"  
"Sure, I can give it a try." He gestured for her to cast the spell. She took a breath and then cast – wand motion perfect and so was the incantation. Her spell stopped halfway through, giving her the same result. Hadrian frowned. "Looks like you stopped halfway through." Padma rolled her eyes and sighed, frustrated. "I know what it looks like, I don't know why it keeps happening. I did the movement right, said the spell and I visualized – but I keep getting that." She gestured to her malformed needle. She grimaced as if in pain and closed her eyes. "Damn stupid match!" Hadrian turned and saw a redhaired girl, Susan, if he remembered right, glaring at her match which was now a burnt piece of wood.  
"Language Miss Bones." Susan had the grace to look contrite. Hadrian turned back to Padma – she was rubbing soothing circles across her temple. "Are you okay?"  
"Hmm? Um, yea I am fine. It's just a small headache, that's all."  
"Doesn't really seem small. I could call the professor if you…"  
"No, no." she said hurriedly, worriedly. She took a deep breath, calming herself before she spoke again. "I just need to do this spell, could you help me? How did you do it? Please?" Hadrian looked at her, her brown eyes seemed to bore into him, pleading. "Professor McGonagall said that the key is focus and imagination," he began. "Well, I just imagined what a needle is like – how it's different from a match. Needle is metal, so it is…"  
"Stronger, tougher." She finished for him, she said seemingly coming to some epiphany. "So focus, I just have to keep that idea…"  
"Image." He corrected. She nodded and closed her eyes for a few minutes. When she opened them back again, gone was the playful look she had been sporting for most of their conversation. She once again raised her wand and then gestured to her match.  
"Take ten points each, Miss Patil, Mr Potter." Padma beamed at him and Hadrian smiled back. The class ended with only the two Ravenclaws having been the only ones successful with the transfiguration.

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School quickly fell into a routine and Hadrian found that he could now pretend to ignore when people stared at him a bit too long or whispered as he passed. He certainly was not used to it – he doubted he ever would get used to being a celebrity – but he was slowly growing accustomed to it all. He was enjoying his classes and the only bump in the road was the fact that Professor Snape, their Potions professor seemed to hate him for reasons Hadrian couldn't even begin to imagine. His first potions class, Snape had bombarded him with questions and mocked him for failing some of the answers. Throughout the lesson, even as he brewed his first ever potion, the professor had watched him like a hawk. Potions was quickly becoming his least favourite class.

Still despite his troubles in Potions, Hadrian was doing well in his classes, earning his teacher's praises and the admiration of his peers – mostly. He was in the Ravenclaw common room, doing his homework with Padma. After he had helped her back in Transfiguration class, the girl had stuck around and Hadrian didn't mind. She certainly did not seem to be in awe of him. The two often sat together in class and did their homework together.

"So Hogwarts was founded in 990AD, the Statute was instituted just over five hundred years after that…" Hadrian said, squinting his eyes at his history textbook.  
"The year 1692 to be exact…" Padma was sitting across from him, chewing on her quill. Hadrian quickly jotted down the dates and waited for Padma to continue. "The British Ministry was founded a few years after that, in 1707 and it replaced the Wizard's Council." Hadrian nodded at that, the book said as much.

"What did the professor say we had to do again." Hadrian ignored how Padma rolled her eyes at him. "I know what you are doing Potter, you want me to do all the work for you." Hadrian grinned sheepishly. He stretched his arms up and sighed as he felt his bones pop. They had been working on their homework for a while now and had barely made any head way. The assignment was not even due for two weeks, but Padma had dragged him here. "The quicker we get it done the more time to goof of you will have on your hands." Yes she made sense, but his history texts were very dry reads.

"Alright maybe we can take a break…" she trailed off as she saw Hadrian perk up suddenly and look towards the open window. A white form, glided in on silent wings. The bird alighted on Hadrian's raised arm and gave a soft hoot. "I missed you too Hedwig. Do you have my letter for me?" The owl let out a bark and raised its leg. Quickly Hadrian untied the letter and started reading it. Padma noticed the bird turn its golden eyes to her. She felt something brush against her perception and frowned. Hesitantly she raised her hand and held it to the bird. For a moment Hedwig did not move and merely stared at her. Padma was about to give it up as a lost cause before she felt Hedwig nudge her hand. She gasped as something seemed to pass from Hedwig to her; _she-child, friend-to-master_. Padma smiled and trailed her fingers through the white plumage – the feathers were incredibly soft.

"Huh, that's strange." Padma looked up to see Hadrian giving her an appraising look, she felt his emotions flicker for a moment.

"What's strange?" she smiled as Hedwig barked at her, and Padma resumed her petting. "Hedwig rarely lets people touch her. It took Dudley weeks before he could feed her without her trying to take a finger too." Padma laughed, her voice tinkling. "I'm just good with animals I guess." She could feel amusement flow into her from the white bird.  
"What kind of owl is she?" Hedwig had tired of the girl's ministrations and was standing by her master, fixing her plumage. "Hedwig? Oh, she's not an owl. She looks like it – but she's not." Hedwig puffed herself up, looking proud and smug. Hadrian grinned up at her, "We haven't figured out what she is yet, but it's not like it really matters." Padma nodded unsure. Hedwig really did not feel like any owl she had interacted with. The bird's emotions were too clear to her. Maybe it was because the bird was Hadrian's familiar.

"Hey you two, it's time for our flying lesson." The two looked up to see Michael gesturing to them. The two nodded and in unspoken agreement went to change.

Soon enough the contingent of Ravenclaws joined their classmates outside in the field. The sun was out and it was warm, perfect weather for flying. Hadrian run a hand down the front of his tunic. It was made of cotton interwoven with leather thread, making it both durable and flexible. His pants were the same and he was wearing his dragon leather boots. Most of his classmates were wearing something similar, though most of the girls seemed to favour shorter sleeves.  
"It's about time you showed up Potter." Hadrian turned when he heard the familiar drawl.  
"Draco, how have you been?" Hadrian said amicably. He noticed Ron glare from off to the side and gave him a shake of the head. The red head scowled and looked away. Draco was flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle. Hadrian honestly had a hard time telling the two apart. They did not look the least bit similar but their general attitude just made their names so interchangeable.  
"Don't you think it's pointless having all of us attend these lessons – just for the sake of some muggleborns who have never been on a broom before." A few of the muggleborns heard him and glowered at the blonde boy but he ignored them with practised ease.  
"I don't know about you Malfoy, but not all of us have actually been on a broom before." Draco seemed to only now notice Padma standing beside Hadrian. "Patil." He gave her a curt nod. Hadrian had noticed that Draco was usually unafraid to voice his opinion on anything, except around some people, like Padma and Hadrian himself. He wondered why that was. A sharp whistle stopped his train of thought; it seemed their instructor had arrived. Madam Hooch was in one word sharp; her features were hawk-like, with striking yellow eyes, pale grey hair and a slightly pointed face. She had them divide up into two rows and had them stand by their brooms. Hadrian noticed a few older students, one from each house, hovering around them.  
"Now I know that many of you would like to believe that these lessons are pointless," her eyes seemed to pan around them. Many of the kids shirked away from her gaze. "But while you may be able to fly a broom that is not all that you shall learn here. Flying lessons are only the beginning of your Physical class." Hadrian noticed that a few of the students frowned at that. Madam Hooch seemed to have sensed the discontent from some of her students. "Do not take this class lightly, it plays a vital role in your magical growth, as you go through your First Maturity…" Madam Hooch stopped talking as a hand went up. She raised a curious eyebrow at being interrupted. "Yes, you with the bushy hair." A few of the Gryffindors snickered in the background but Hermione paid them no mind. "Professor, what do you mean by Maturity?"  
"Ah, I sometimes forget that not all of us are versed in Magi physiology." She snapped to attention and many of the kids found themselves following suit. "Wizards and witches differ from our muggle counterparts in many ways, other than the obvious of course. On the onset of puberty, our magic undergoes a change – a jump of sorts you see. This is why Hogwarts starts admission at your ages and what not. This jump though means that at times your magic may act unstable and burst out of your control. You will also, in time, experience a drastic increase in your physical abilities. Now to help it settle you must help it along, by strengthening your body to better contain and handle your new growth." Great, Hadrian thought, so basically puberty just got stranger.  
"Does that answer your question miss Granger." Hermione seemed full of new questions now. A few of the other students grumbled under their breaths. If Granger got to asking questions, they could very well be there all morning. Thankfully Hermione seemed satisfied for the time being.

Soon they were ready to try out their brooms. Hadrian's broom jumped up into his hand the moment he commanded it. He could feel it twitching, mirroring his own excitement. "Now when I tell you to, mount your broom, kick hard and keeping your arms straight and firm on your broom maintain a four-foot hover. Ready?" she blew her whistle and Hadrian kicked off. In that moment Hadrian knew he was a flier. The breeze in his hair, the currents under him, the firmness of the wood under his hand. It all felt so easy.  
"AAH!"  
"Longbottom!" Hadrian snapped his eyes open. Neville was high up and had drifted away from everyone else. His broom was jerking and bucking, trying to throw him off. Hadrian didn't even think, tucking his body in close and pulling up, his broom shot off climbing towards his increasingly panicked friend.  
"Go Harry!" Someone shouted over the wind and Neville saw him coming. Then Neville made a mistake, he let one hand go off the handle and then the broom jerked harder, violently. For a moment, there was silence, the world held its breath and then someone screamed and Neville fell. Hadrian dived. In the space between them, pale blue eyes met verdant green and Neville splayed out a hand. Hadrian could feel the wind whipping past him, but inch by agonising inch his hand came closer to Neville's. Ten feet. Eight feet. Five feet. Two feet. And then Neville's hand clamped around his wrist and Hadrian jerked his broom upwards. There was a snap, Neville's feet dragged across the green and then a crack and the two were tumbling on the soft ground. Hadrian could taste grass and dirt in his mouth, his chest hurt and there was an annoying buzz in his ear. Groaning, he flipped over. A distance away he could see feet running towards them. He looked to his side, Neville was beside him, his face streaked with grass and dirt. "Neville, are you okay?"  
"Let's not do that again." He couldn't help it, Hadrian laughed. It wasn't even funny but with all the adrenalin running through his system he couldn't do much.

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"…reckless that's what you are. Did you even stop to think about what you were doing? Of course, you didn't."  
"But aun – um I mean Professor…" Hadrian cringed when she glared at him. Madam Pomfrey had cleared him – his injuries had only been a few scrapes after all and he had been given a paste for the light bruising on his stomach. Still his aunt was making a very compelling argument for his extended stay, her rant was giving him a headache. Neville, a few beds away, gave him an apologetic look. The shy boy looked so forlorn. Hadrian gave him a reassuring smile before he turned back to listen to the deputy headmistress. "Next time I expect you to exercise a little more caution, or to let those more qualified to handle such things. Do you hear me young man?"  
"Yes auntie – professor." Her gaze softened and she offered him a soft smile. "I am proud of what you did Hadrian, it scared me half to death but I am proud. You didn't hesitate to help a friend." Hadrian felt a swell of warmth bubble in his chest and he grinned back at her. She ruffled his hair before with a huff she left. Madam Pomfrey soon discharged Neville and the two boys left the Hospital wing. On the way out, they bumped into Padma. "Finally!" Neville paled at her sudden appearance; he was still jumpy after the incident. Padma looked apologetic, "Sorry Neville that was really inconsiderate of me, surprising you like that. How is your arm?" The three of them started making their way towards the great hall, it was lunch time after all.  
"Oh it's alright Padma," he said shyly not meeting her eyes. Padma didn't seem to mind and offered him a smile. He blushed and looked away. "Madam Pomfrey popped his arm back in, and she cleaned us up real nice." Hadrian held up his arms, he had gotten numerous minor cuts when he fell.  
"Yea, she also checked my tendons."  
"Did she?" she looked at Neville appraisingly, a curious look in her eyes. "I wish I could have seen it."  
"Trust me Padma, you didn't miss much, all we were doing was sitting there." Hadrian said dismissively. Padma rolled her eyes at him, "Maybe you wouldn't find it interesting after the chewing out Professor McGonagall gave you…" Hadrian scratched the back of his head embarrassedly. "Oh you heard that, did you? How much…"  
"Pretty much everything. I was waiting for you after all."

"Oh," he looked at her strangely. "Thanks I guess." She nodded at him and led the way into the hall. Hadrian as was becoming his habit ignored the many whispers that followed him.  
"Neville come sit with us." Neville looked startled and looked at Padma wide eyed. "After what happened, I know you could do with some company and most of the Gryffindors are gone." She was right of course. The few Gryffs at the table were ones Neville was not really on speaking terms with. Neville looked at Padma and she gestured towards Hadrian who was already seated and waiting for them. With a shrug Neville decided not to overthink things and plopped himself beside his rescuer.

* * *

_Breathe in, breath out. In, out. In, out._ Padma looked at her trembling fingers. She continued to control her breathing – she could feel her mind expanding and contracting with every inhale and exhale. Her magic brushed against the people in the tower below her. _Hungry. Tired. Irritated. Excited._ She could feel them all; a jumbled mess of emotion and impression – and she tried not to let it overtake her. _Feel but do not let it consume you. Brush but do not give in._ The words of her instructors played in her mind. _Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._ Slowly her perception drew back around her, and the noise in her mind became fainter, a light buzz. She could still pick things up but only around a few meters around herself. She opened her eyes and found an amber gaze fixed on her. "Hedwig." The bird gave a soft hoot. Padma wasn't surprised to see her friend's familiar. The bird had found her one morning when she had been up on the tower meditating. Now most mornings the bird joined her, usually halfway through her morning exercises, the bird would fly up into her field of perception and just watch her. It had unnerved her the first time she had woken from her trance to find the bird staring at her – but now she welcomed the company.

She stood up, wincing at how stiff her legs had gotten. She shook off the sensation and looked down at the grounds. This high up, she could see for miles upon miles all around the castle. The mountains in the distance were hazy and blue, the lake glittered in the golden morning light, its depths dark and murky and the forest was dark and shrouded in mist. Hoot. She looked at Hedwig and felt the bird reaching out to her. Hesitantly Padma opened herself to the connection and felt the avian mind flood her own with impressions. _She-child. Friend-Master. Help. Master._ It was a jumble of emotion and she could barely make any sense of it. Only one thing stuck out to her – a boy with green eyes, Hadrian. Hedwig withdrew from the contact and without any by-your-leave, the bird raised its wings and was gone. Padma sighed, bringing her hand up to rub at her temple. She let her thoughts wander as she went down to the girl's dormitory. Connecting to Hedwig like that was odd, it was not painful, just disorienting – her human mind having to adjust to the avian. Still she got enough, the image of Hadrian was clear enough. Something was wrong with her friend, else Hedwig would not have asked for her help. But this did present a problem; Hadrian was her friend, yes, but they had not known each other for long. Padma may have skimmed his emotions from time to time but she did not know how he would react to finding out that she could hold a conversation of sorts with his familiar. Magi were very protective of their familiars. Another person trespassing into that bond could be taken as an attack and blood feuds had been started for less. She shook her head and let the warm water from the shower sooth her back. Hedwig had come to her though, so maybe it was alright?

Done with her shower and properly dressed, Padma went down to the common room. She had expected the whole gang to be there – they had made it a habit of going down to breakfast together. Finding Su standing there all alone waiting for her was unexpected. "Where's everybody else?" Padma asked as they took the stairs out of the Ravenclaw tower.  
"They left early, I waited so you wouldn't walk alone." Padma felt Su's emotions flicker. She had not been actively probing, but standing right beside the smaller girl, she didn't need to. Su wasn't telling her everything. "Su, what happened?" The smaller girl looked at her in surprise, her dark eyes going wide. Padma felt her surprise but she ignored it and kept staring at her housemate. Su looked away, chewing on her bottom lip, debating.  
"It's the boys, something happened – Terry was screaming his head off, Tony was hurt – bleeding, I think. Michael was trying to calm everyone down." Padma faltered in her steps in surprise. "What about Hadrian?" she felt something twist when she saw Su's expression darken.  
"Apparently he did it."

The wand felt warm beneath his arms, the dark wood rolled smoothly along his fingers. It distracted him, helped him avoid thinking about what had happened. His roommates had left a while ago. He could still remember the way Terry had looked at him. Michael had tried to be apologetic but even he had kept his distance, the look never quite reaching the other boy's eyes. Anthony hadn't even bothered to look at him – not that Hadrian could blame the boy after what Hadrian had done. His wand grew warm under his hand and let out a spark. "Ow!" The wand fell out of his arm, rolling on the floor to stop a few feet in front of him. He stared at the magical piece of wood. _Great now even my own wand hates me._ He got up to pick it up, tensing, expecting the wand to sting him again and was surprised that it didn't. The wood felt cool in his hand and he quickly put it into his holster. It was then that he heard the voices on the other side of the door.  
"…it is an unfortunate incident but it will have to go down into his records. Anything less would be a show of blatant favouritism." Hadrian felt a chill go down his spine. That was the headmaster's voice – he had not had much interaction with the headmaster, other than seeing the celebrated wizard at the evening feasts. He had heard that the older students had a few classes with the old wizard – the man was quite busy apparently. Yet here he was in the hospital wing talking about him.  
"I'm well aware of that Albus, but this is not as simple as a school yard duel between two wizards…."

"I am aware, Minerva and it shall be treated with utmost care…." Hadrian was startled when the door to the office was opened suddenly. He scrambled to his chair and tried to affect an unruffled air. Madam Pomfrey entered her office and looked at him, her eyes searching his. She offered him a small but warm smile. He tried to smile back but it came out as a grimace.  
"Hello Hadrian, you haven't had the best of mornings have you." Hadrian grimaced and looked away from the Healer. There was an awkward silence, interspersed with the sound of shuffling paper.  
"I didn't mean to hurt him – it was just – I didn't know what…"  
"Hadrian calm down," she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and her felt an odd sort of calmness wash over him. "You're not in any sort of trouble…" "But I heard…"  
"Despite what you heard," the reprimand for eavesdropping was left unsaid. "You are not in trouble. We understand that it was an accident." Hadrian sat back in his seat, and looked at his hands.  
"When they woke me up – it was like... I don't know – I couldn't…"  
"Hey, listen to me. We don't have to talk about this now." He looked up at her in surprise. His eyes searched her own brown ones and found nothing but sincerity.  
"It's a hard thing, talking about trauma. Nobody least of all me expects you to just be able to talk about it. It's a process that everyone has to go through. Do you get what I'm saying Hadrian?" Hadrian nodded, hesitantly, unsure. "We will have to talk about it though, eventually. Because if we don't, then things like this will keep happening and I know you don't want that."

She rummaged through her desk drawers before she took out a simple black book. "Hold this." She waved her wand over his hand and book. The book pulsed under his hand and he felt his own magic respond, rippling under the skin of his palm. "This is a dream journal, I would like it if you to wrote down your dreams, your thoughts and impressions. Express yourself in that journal." Hadrian looked at the small innocuous book, it suddenly felt heavy in his hand. "Only you and anyone else you trust can read its pages – I've placed a charm on it. You don't have to worry about someone reading your intimate thoughts. I'm not forcing you to write in that, it's entirely up to you – but I can say that it at least helps me." She held up a small brown book for him to see.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for him, when he finally left the hospital wing. She stood tall and imperious, the students in the corridors giving her a wide berth. He noticed some of the students giving him appraising looks and whispering to one another. He grimaced, of course everyone probably knew what had happened. "Come along then Harry." He looked up surprised and saw her already moving up the corridor. She rarely shortened his name, maybe he wasn't in that much trouble. McGonagall's office was all dark wood, with book shelves set to the side and a fireplace opposite her large desk. He noticed a door leading away. But before he could ask about it, she was talking, "I have some errands to run today and I'm hoping you can come along to help me."  
"But what about my classes."  
"Headmaster Dumbledore has agreed to suspend your classes for the day." She gave a lazy wave of her wand and she was holding a dark blue piece of cloth, a cloak in his size. "Well?" she offered the cloak to him with a teasing smile and he couldn't help but grin back at her. After he had fastened his cloak and she hers – a dark green one that matched his own, she pulled out a quill and held it out to him.  
"What?" she gave him an exasperated look.  
"Hold on to the quill." He gave her a sceptical look.  
"I'm having a hard time believing that a quill will take us to Diagon Alley."  
"It's called a portkey; it lets wizards travel long distances in mere moments. I will give you a book on it when we get back." She suppressed a smile when she saw his eyes light up at the prospect. Taking a firm hold of the quill and ignoring how ridiculous he must look, he turned to look at her.  
"So how does it work." The grin she gave him almost made him jerk back in fear. Then he felt a sharp hook tugging behind his navel and then the world burst into light and swirling colours.

* * *

Hadrian cursed as he tumbled onto the grass. He rolled to a stop, his clothes stained with grass and dirt. He looked up and saw fluffy clouds on a backdrop of blue. Hadrian had come to a realization – he hated portkeys. The things were uncomfortable and disorienting, a whirlwind of light, sound and magic. This was his second one and it had felt decidedly worse than the first which had taken them to the shopping district. A light chuckle drew his attention to his companion. She was standing before him, as immaculate as she always was, not even a scuff on her leather boots. Huffing, he got up – ignoring the woozy feeling and slight churn in his stomach, he turned and looked around. Green rolling hills, golden fields and hamlets dotted the distance. The air tasted sweet and the sun felt warm on his skin. "Where are we?" A distance away he could see a village, smoke billowing from the chimneys – and he thought he could just faintly hear voices rising up on the breeze.  
"Outside a village, in the southwest of France." She had already started walking down the winding path leading down. For a moment Hadrian did not know what to do and stared at her retreating back. Then realising she was getting away from him, he scrambled to catch up to her. France! He had never left the country before and here he was casually strolling into a French village – well not quite. Professor McGonagall was veering away from the village. They were heading towards a small clump of trees.  
"Umm auntie?" she gave a distracted hum in response – her eyes and senses were searching around them. "What are we doing here?" "Well I have a meeting, with an old friend of the Headmaster." She was searching the tree trunks, her hands running over the rough bark quickly and efficiently. Hadrian watched her not knowing what she was doing. He looked around; all the trees looked the same to him. he placed a hand against a trunk, the bark was rough and worn under his palm. He was startled when she let out a triumphant shout. He quickly let go of the trunk. She was standing a few trees down, her hand tracing a symbol on the trunk – it looked familiar, "Is that the rune for concealment." He came closer, his eyes panning around and finally he could see – other trees were carved. They were spaced out and weren't always level, some higher up and others lower; forming some sort of diamond formation. He got closer, wanting to study it. McGonagall took out something dark and smooth from the depths of her cloak, turning it face up she swiped it across the rune. The rune lit up and with it so did the others. He stared, captivated, and then with a brief shimmer of the surroundings a large cottage appeared, with a low wooden fence around it. What truly surprised him though were the two people looking back at them. The woman was only a bit shorter than his aunt and her grey streaked dark hair made her look older. Yet her smile made her face quite youthful. The man was thin and his hair was a shocking white, with dark eyes and large eyebrows. Hadrian tried not meet the man's dark gaze, something about it unsettling him.  
"It is so good to see you again Minerva." The woman's gaze quickly shifted to Hadrian and he found himself straightening up, trying to make a good impression. Something was telling him that these people were quite important. "It's nice to see you as well Mrs. Flamel."  
"I see you brought a guest." The man's voice startled Hadrian. It was loud and gruff, not something he had expected for a man of his frame. "Well boy, what is your name?" Hadrian shrunk back from the man's gaze; a heavy presence pressed against him and he felt his chest get tight and his breath come fast – he took a step back. "Nicolas!" The woman's voice turned sharp and suddenly Hadrian could breathe easier and his eyes were no longer trapped in the abyss that was the man's gaze.  
"I'm sorry for my husband's behaviour dear child. He forgets himself sometimes." She threw a heated glare at the man but he merely shrugged. A comforting hand settled itself on his shoulder. He looked up and saw his aunt giving him a concerned look. Her hand felt warm and it dispelled the chill that had crept up on him.  
"I will warn you once Mr. Flamel…" McGonagall's words were sharp as barbs and her stare icy. The man met her gaze and the two stared at each other. It was tense, until the older man looked away, something unsaid having passed between them. Mrs. Flamel tried to keep the atmosphere warm, "Well ignoring that unpleasantness…" she gave Hadrian a warm smile, a contrast to her husband, "I'm Perenelle Flamel and that grouch over there is my husband, Nicolas."  
"Oh, I'm um Hadrian. Hadrian Potter."  
"It's nice to meet you Hadrian." He blinked. No surprise. No excitement. No gushing about how much they were thankful. Nicolas snorted. "Did you expect us to grovel."  
"Nicolas!" Perenelle looked aghast. Hadrian felt himself becoming increasingly confused.  
"…rian, Hadrian."  
"What?" he cringed, that must have sounded rude. If Perenelle was offended she didn't let it show.  
"I was asking if you would accompany me to the village – I have some shopping to do. We can leave the grownups to their oh so important meeting." Nicolas grumbled something that Hadrian couldn't quite catch, but judging from the glare his wife shot him, Perenelle had heard him fine. McGonagall looked on amused at the by play between the couple. Hadrian looked at his aunt and she gave him an encouraging nod. "Excellent!"

It was only when the two were gone beyond the property line that the two sitting in the garden tuned to regard each other. "I had expected Albus to make the trip himself." Minerva snorted.  
"You know how he is." Nicolas grunted in acknowledgement. His old student liked his games.  
"Still why did you bring the child, that was beyond expectations."  
"Was it, Perenelle didn't seem too surprised." Her eyes narrowed, accusing. The older man shrugged nonchalantly. He took a gulp of his drink. "You know she has her talents – over the years I've learnt to just accept what she does. It certainly makes my life easier – I don't need the stress at my age." He barked out a laugh at his little joke.  
"Now," he leaned forward, all trace of humour gone from his face, his eyes gleaming. "Let's talk about the stone…"

* * *

Padma, not having caught up to them before they entered that mornings class, finally got a chance to speak to Anthony in between classes. The golden haired Ravenclaw had been an object of intrigue during the lesson. The bandages wrapped around his shoulder and upper arm drawing much attention, despite being mostly hidden under his robes. She had noticed him wincing whenever he moved his arm, he must have dislocated it, she thought grimly. "What happened?" She asked without preamble. Anthony winced in remembrance; Michael sighed at her lack of tact. It was Terry though who answered – his face going red in anger and indignation. "Potter is what happened – he went all crazy and just attacked..."  
"For the last time, Terry, he didn't just attack, we startled him."  
"Startled? We were waking him up for Merlin's sake…"  
"Yes, and he got startled, you heard him." irritation bled into Michael's voice. "Tell her Tony…" Michael prompted the blonde boy who grimaced at the attention. Padma noticed that the Ravenclaws had formed a loose circle; the other girls having joined in but remaining quiet. Beyond them she saw her other classmates, looking on and straining their ears. She ignored them and focused on Anthony. He seemed pained and reluctant. She offered him what she was hoping was an encouraging smile. It seemed to do the trick because the injured boy started talking, his voice going low. "Hadrian has nightmares, most nights…" his eyes flitted up looking over her shoulder before he continued. "We agreed not to talk about it, outside – but last night…" he looked unsure. Michael picked up the thread, "It was bad, really bad. He was screaming and gasping and there was this voice," Anthony and Michael shared a look and shuddered. "It was horrible. We tried to wake him and that's when it happened." Terry let out a scoff, and Padma turned to him. "The moment Tony touched him, he got blasted away like a ragdoll – crashed into a window; got all cut up. Your boyfriend is dangerous." Padma glared at him so fiercely, Terry backed up, raising his arms in his defence. For a while nobody said anything, digesting what they had been told.  
"It's October 31st…." Morag said suddenly and several heads turned to look at her. Padma felt realization slam into her like a runaway bludger. She noticed her friends quickly come to the same conclusion.  
"What, why does it matter…" Terry started to ask.  
"It's the day the war ended you idiot. The day You-Know-Who died." Lisa glared at him. Terry quickly put two and two together. "Well damn…"

And that was all to it. What else could they say? It had been easy to forget; the last day of October, Samhain – the day most wizards in Europe honoured the dead. A lot of people had seen it as a sign; when the war ended on the particular day. So as they had gotten up that morning, greeted with the fantastically dark decorations the castle was strewn in, it had been easy to forget. Today was the anniversary of the war's end – a time of celebration for most, but October 31st was also the day that made Hadrian so famous and the day that he watched his parents get killed right in front of him.

It was a subdued group of Ravenclaws that trooped into the Charms classroom. More than a few eyes followed them and noticed the absence of one of their number. Professor Flitwick quickly began the lesson, business as usual. Padma without her usual desk partner, Hadrian, elected to seat with Su. The class was on levitation and Padma found it all a bore. She had practised this with Hadrian days before, excited at the chance to be able to lift things with a gesture. She smiled blandly as Professor Flitwick congratulated her on getting the spell on her first try. It wasn't her first try but it didn't matter. Her mind drifted to her wayward friend. Where was he?  
"Wingardium Leviosa!" a boy, Ron Weasley, bellowed and jabbed his wand at his feather. The feather twitched momentarily before sitting still. She felt his frustration and frowned. _You're doing it wrong you idiot,_ she thought annoyed. She could feel his frustration and irritation. His feelings were such a contrast to the last time she had interacted with him; he had been beating Hadrian at chess, quite soundly infact.  
"…if you're so smart why don't you give it a go then." Padma noticed him glower at Granger. The bushy haired Gryffindor huffed and raised her wand. A swish and flick, "Wingardium Leviosa." The feather lifted off the desk easily and following the gestures from the young witch's wand. Granger threw Ron a smug smirk and the boy hunched down, embarrassed and angry.

Class ended soon after and Padma quickly made her way to the professor. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed her housemates waiting for her. "Professor?"  
"Yes, how can I help you miss Patil? Was it about the class? You did quite wonderfully I must say…" Padma cut him off, not wanting him to go off tangent.  
"It's about Hadrian actually," she bit her lip nervously. Professor Flitwick's eyes turned serious. "I'm sure you are aware of what happened this morning – it's just well, he wasn't in any of the classes today. I was wondering if you knew – could you tell me where he is?" Professor Flitwick let out a tired sigh.  
"Ah yes, that was rather unfortunate," his eyes flicked to something, someone behind her, before he was looking back at her. "Considering the day though, it is not all that surprising," his eyes took on a faraway look, shadowed by memories. "In any case," he said coming back to himself. "Mr Potter is quite alright; I'm told he is running errands with Professor McGonagall." He nodded, satisfied with his response and turned away and busied himself with his desk. Padma took that as her dismissal and after thanking the professor, left. He barely acknowledged her departure. With a quick look to her friends that clearly said, "tell you later." The Ravenclaws went out to the courtyard.  
"I didn't ask for your help, I was perfectly fine as I was. I didn't bloody well want a know-it-all telling me what to do." Ron's face was red like his hair, glaring daggers at Hermione Granger. The girl had a stubborn tilt to her head, though her eyes were suspiciously moist. "You were doing it wrong; I was just showing…"  
"What you were doing was butting your head where it didn't belong. No wonder you don't have any friends…" the courtyard fell quiet at that. Ron seemed to have realized that he might have gone too far. Hermione looked at him hurt and angry, her lip trembled. Padma saw a single tear fall down to the worn stones at their feet. "You-you-you arse!" There was a flare of magic and snap. Hermione turned on her heel and fled, her sobs catching on the wind. For a moment the courtyard was silent everyone either looking at the direction the distraught girl had disappeared to or to Ron who stood there, his hands on his head, specifically his ears. "Well I think the donkey ears get the point across." Terry said nodding to himself. As if his words were the cue, people began laughing at the redhead. _Good, he deserves that,_ Padma thought with a certain sense of satisfaction. She looked back to where Hermione had disappeared to, she hoped the other girl would be okay.

* * *

Going through the village was a surreal experience for Hadrian, and not because it was one of the few fully magical communities around. No, the village apart from a few odd things here and there was quite normal; his feelings were all rooted in one individual, Perenelle Flamel. Before they had entered the village proper, the woman had pulled a wand from somewhere and quickly jabbed it at his face. He had jumped back, scared that she had attacked him. That fear had immediately turned to terror when he felt his face shifting. "Relax, don't fight it." Against his better judgment he listened to her and tried to force his heart to slow. The shifting on his face went from slightly painful to uncomfortable and itchy. When it finally settled, he brought his hands to his face and felt it. It-it was different. "Here, take a look." He looked up and found a large mirror floating before him. Ignoring the advanced magic, he looked at himself. His eyes were blue, spaced apart just that little more, his cheeks had sunk in a bit, his skin was a healthy peach and his hair was longer and blond. He almost looked like Dudley! He turned to her aghast, "What did you do?"  
"It's a slight transfiguration-illusion hybrid. A glamour."  
"Slight!" he pulled at his hair; the gold flickered turning darker. "Ah ah." She batted his hands away giving him a chiding look. "Don't do that, you'll unravel the glamour. It's hard enough as it is maintaining it – your magic was fighting me all the way." Hadrian looked at her confused. Perenelle sighed.  
"It's so that you don't get recognized. Aren't you supposed to be smart?" she smirked cheekily at him, his glare having no effect.  
"Why couldn't you just make me a hat, it hides my scar. It worked last time."  
"British wizards are so gullible, plus this is better." She started walking away, a pep to her step. Hadrian lest he get lost followed her. Soon they were lost in their grocery run, Hadrian acting like the polite young man he was raised to be, and carrying all the shopping. It was a good thing that the shopping basket was charmed to be lightweight, because Perenelle had a lot of shopping to do. To Hadrian, her interests seemed rather random; one minute they were buying some strange hairy fruit and the next they were buying strange stones.  
"So what are illusions? What branch is it under?" Hadrian asked, they had taken a break and were sitting at an outdoor café. He looked at the éclair in front of him; the tasty treat was full of cream and glistened in the afternoon sun. Tempted, he bit into it and let out a pleased moan. Perenelle laughed at him; taking a napkin, she wiped his cream stained nose. He smiled sheepishly.  
"Well most people class illusions under Charms…"  
"Are they?" Hadrian turned his stare to her, his eyes darkening with curiosity. Her smile turned thoughtful, "Well they are charms of a sort but it is not always so clear. A good foundation in charms is always good for when you start to learn how to cast illusions."  
"But it's not always necessary right?"  
"True, it's not. But that doesn't mean you can go about trying them out willy nilly." Her stare turned heavy and Hadrian turned away uncomfortable.  
"So what would you say is your favourite subject?"  
"Um well right now it's transfiguration, and not because auntie teaches it. But turning one thing into another is so cool." Perenelle smiled at the young boy's enthusiasm. "But runes – runes I love."  
"Really," she looked at him bemused. He nodded empathetically. He pulled his napkin and started tracing it with his wand, burning symbols into the material. He started talking animatedly, "I saw this back at the cottage, it means hidden – well this part here does and I think that's the base. This here," he traced another symbol, its angles sharp. "This is the feeder, funnels the energy towards this…" A laugh startled him. He blushed in embarrassment. She waved off his stuttered apologies. "It is quite refreshing to hear children speak so passionately about their interests. I hope I am talking to a future Runemaster then?" Hadrian nodded; cheeks still pink. He looked around and noticed something that had escaped his notice before.  
"Is there a festival today?"  
"I'm surprised you don't know – then again…" she trailed off, giving him a considering stare. "Voldemort was defeated today. Wizards across Europe celebrate in various ways."  
"Oh." The fire of his enthusiasm was plunged into cold realization. Memories of that morning came to the fore of his mind and he clenched his fists. He had woken up scared, running from darkness and phantasmal screams – and yet waking had been a different kind of nightmare. Glass and wood had littered the carpet, Terry was screaming and Anthony was barely conscious, looking so pale; the crimson of his blood had stood out so starkly. And in all that confusion a voice, insidious and delighted had whispered, _Yes._

"Hadrian…" he blinked a few times and then tried to smile to reassure her that he was okay. His smile fell flat, pallid against his face. "I had-have nightmares and today…it – there was glass and…" she shook her head, gently shushing him. "Its alright. Whatever happened, its alright." He stared into her eyes, her sincerity shining through. He had no idea why he had even said anything to her. It was one thing talking to Madam Pomphrey – he had known her since he was a kid and she had given him his magical inoculations – but Perenelle no matter how nice she was, was a complete stranger. He had met her less than two hours ago. Still there was something about the woman that just let him relax around her.  
"We should probably visit a flower shop soon. Those two will be done soon." Hadrian shook off his thoughts and followed her; happy to let his mind focus on something else.

* * *

Hadrian only stumbled when they appeared at their next destination. That had more to do with the mode of transport than anything else – also his aunt did have a firm grip on his arm. Apparation or this version of apparation – side-along apparation – was uncomfortable. He had felt himself be squeezed from all sides as if his body was being forced through a straw. He had been unable to breath and it had gone dark before colour and light and air had rushed back in. Still, while he hated it, it was faster than a portkey. He took a few steps forward and his stomach only protested mildly. A whole day of magical travel had quickly gotten him adapting it seems.

"Where are we?" he asked, looking around. They had appeared in an alley, beyond which he could hear faint sounds.  
"This is Godrics Hallow." Hadrian looked at his professor, her voice felt strange, nostalgic. "Come."

He followed her out. The village felt cozy and light-hearted. There was something familiar in the air that he could not quite place. The two walked in silence, passing houses sporting Halloween decorations. Children were running about in their costumes, laughing and carefree. They turned into a street and left the cheer behind. The path led up to a church and suddenly Hadrian felt anxious. He tried to catch his aunt's eyes but she kept her gaze forward. They entered a gate off to the side and suddenly Hadrian saw that they were in a cemetery. Rows and rows of grave stones lay in front of the duo. In the waning evening light, the shadows were long and dark. The trees amidst the gravestones looked like dark twisting sentries, their looming branches shading the stones, giving them a semblance of privacy. Slowly Hadrian followed his teacher and aunt; she seemed to know where she was going, taking the twists and turns with familiarity. With every step Hadrian took, his feet felt heavier, filling with lead. An idea was forming in his head, an idea that filled him with trepidation. They came to a stop before two gravestones and something lurched in him. **James Charlus Potter**. **Lily Potter**. His parents' graves. He felt lost, his emotions a jumbled mess. He had no idea what to do. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, light and gentle. "Take all the time you need, there is no rush. I'll be here if you need me." He felt her move a distance away, close but far enough for him to have some semblance of privacy. He looked back at the stones. Shakily he raised a hand and brushed it against his father's name. There was no rush of power or blinding light. He just felt the hard stone against his fingers, the pits worn out by rain and wind. It was just stone and yet it was so much more. The words tumbled out of his mouth, "Hi dad. Hi mom. It's me Hadrian, your son…" It was like the floodgates had opened and he found himself talking and sharing stories about his life, some that he had never told anyone else.  
"Dudley gave me a lighter for my birthday, aunt Petunia doesn't know of course…"  
"Hedwig, she's my familiar I think and she looks like an owl but she can freeze things if she tries hard enough. I think its cool and she is so smug about it…"  
"I made friends at Hogwarts, actual friends, not because they are friends with Dudley but mine…."  
"I have nightmares sometimes, about that night. I hate them – I hurt Tony because of them…"

He talked for what felt like hours but was probably less. The sun went below the horizon, and the sky turned a velvety purple. Soon his words tapered and he just knelt there, one hand on each gravestone. There was a rustle of cloth and his aunt was standing beside him. "Thank you for bringing me here." There was a rustle of wings and a flash of white. Hadrian leaned his head to the side and Hedwig landed on his shoulder. The bird let out a gentle cooing sound and rubbed her head against his. Professor McGonagall shifted beside him, "Here." She pulled out a wreath of flowers. Hadrian accepted them, absentmindedly noting that they were the same flowers he had bought earlier with Perenelle – he had chosen them in fact. Gingerly he placed the flowers on the stones and marvelled as they grew. Vines sprouting and twisting around the stones, connecting them. "Could you say something…" he looked at his aunt unsure. "It feels like we should say something, say goodbye…" he trailed off, shrugging. She took a step forward, head bowed and wand held aloft, casting a soft light, "As you leave this shore, gone but not forgotten. Your memories burned upon our hearts we shall carry. To the Great Mother we confer your spirits and hope you reach the Blessed Isle. Our journey continues. Till we meet again."  
"Till we meet again."

* * *

**A/N That's another chapter done with. This one was quite a chore to write, I tried to throw in all sorts of emotions and I'm not really sure how that worked out. That's for you guys to tell me. Anyway I sped up the visit to the graves, I don't see any reason for McGonagall not to take him, especially on the anniversary of their deaths. I know in the books that visit came late and it carried with it other meanings and also added on to the story but it always pestered me why he never went earlier, considering he always wanted to know about his parents. Anyway. Whatever, that's what fanfiction is for.**

**To the people or shall I say person who reviewed, ****Dragonhitter thank you. As to your question about Selene, well she's not dead and I haven't forgotten her at all. She will appear again at some point, when that is exactly well I hope you keep reading to find out**

**Please read and Review. Thanks**


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Obviously**

* * *

**BONDS**

_The only bond worth anything between human beings is their humanness  
__…..Jesse Owens_

* * *

Padma stood outside the Gryffindor common room, waiting. She tried her best to ignore the stares she got from some of the people either coming or going out of the common room. She did find it funny though when quite a few of them mistook her for her sister. It brought a nostalgic flood of memories for her – days spent running around the grounds of the estate and confusing her family. Only her Awa could tell them apart back then. Padma reflexively checked her bare wrist, forgetting that she did not actually have a watch. What was taking Parvati so long? Her head perked up as she heard voices, amongst them, her sister's distinct lilt.  
"…and I told him that he should keep that toad of his in a cage. Honestly with how much it gets away – I don't want any slime in my clothes thank you very much." Lavender said, her hands waving in the air for emphasis. "Padma." The bubbly blonde grinned as she spotted the Ravenclaw.  
"What are you doing standing out here?" Parvati said, her eyes looking over her sister. Padma held back a sigh. "I'm fine Parvati – and I've been out here waiting for you for ages."

"Did something happen?" Parvati made a discreet gesture. Padma shrugged and held up her hands in front of her, "I still have all my fingers and toes." Parvati frowned. Padma decided to change the subject. "I actually was hoping to ask you about something – someone really."  
"Who?" Parvati asked with a gleam of suspicion in her eyes.  
"Granger." Parvati and Lavender shared a look. Padma felt something in her chest twist when she noticed. "I usually see her in the library most afternoons, like clockwork – except today. So I thought…" What had she thought, Padma asked herself. She and Hermione were not friends. They were barely acquaintances. Sure, they exchanged greetings in the library when they bumped into each other, but other than classes, that was the extent of their interaction. A few times Padma had felt waves of negative energy from the girl directed towards her. Jealousy, irritation. Usually when Padma succeeded with a spell early or gave a better answer. Padma though had choked it up to nothing but a simple rivalry. The girl's emotions had barely gone very deep.  
"It's nice of you to care," Lavender said, drawing Padma from her thoughts. "Hermione can be…" she searched around for a word, "_difficult._" Padma thought Lavender was being quite kind with her choice of words. One only had to look at what had happened that morning to see other people's opinions on the bushy haired girl.  
"I suppose you'll have more luck than we did." Parvati gave her sister a knowing look, her eyes firmly on the necklace that adorned Padma's neck.  
"Hermione is having a good cry in the second-floor bathroom. Hasn't left all afternoon."  
"Oh thanks, I should get going…" She stopped. Lavender had wrapped an arm around hers, stopping her from leaving.  
"Where do you think you're going? At least tell us why you Claws were all fidgeting this morning."  
"Yea," Parvati smirked. "There are rumours about Hadrian flying around, who I might add you still haven't introduced me to. Why are you keeping him all to yourself?"  
"I'm not his keeper!" Padma said irritated.  
"Well that's not what people are saying, let me tell you…"

Padma finally managed to get away from her sister and Lavender. She quickly made her way to the second floor. It was quickly approaching dinnertime and the feast would start soon. The girls' bathroom was empty, predictably, and Padma found herself walking in gingerly. The moment she got in, she heard sniffling, "Hello?" Immediately the sound stopped. Padma frowned and let her perception expand. She grimaced as she felt the shame and feelings of worthlessness from one of the stalls. "Hermione? Look I know you're in here. I just want to talk?"  
"Go away. I don't want to talk to anyone. I-I just want to be left alone." Padma frowned. She didn't believe the girl for one second. "I don't believe you…" she ignored the spike of irritation. Walking forward, she got closer to the door of the stall. "Weasley doesn't know what he was talking about…"  
"He does though." Hermione's gruff voice cut Padma off. The voice sounded close, maybe Hermione was leaning against the door. "I don't have any friends – it's been weeks and…" Padma swallowed the lump in her throat. "Hermione…" Padma moved closer, her hand resting on the door.  
"It's like primary school all over again." Padma closed her eyes, holding back the tears. She wasn't meant to hear that; Hermione's voice was barely a whisper.  
"Hermione, I-I can be your friend. I want to…"  
"Liar."

"No, no. I mean it." Padma spoke quickly. The urgency, the need in her own voice taking her by surprise. Something in her was compelling her, urging her to ease this one girl's pain. Silence greeted her, and that made her anxious. Even her ability was not giving her much to sense. Padma was just about to call out to the other girl when she felt the door shudder. She moved away as the door opened and out stepped the other girl. Hermione looked a mess, her eyes red, and face splotchy. Her arms were wrapped around herself, an attempt at protecting herself.  
"Hello." Padma's voice cracked and she almost cringed. Hermione though seemed to draw strength from that and offered up a tremulous smile. "Hi." Padma smiled and the two stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do after such an emotionally charged conversation. Hermione sniffed; her nose scrunched up in distaste. "What's…? Can you smell that?" Padma could but more importantly she could feel it. Quickly, she turned to her new friend, her movements were frantic and frightened. Hermione immediately picked up on it. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked nervously.  
"We can't stay here – we have to go. Right now!" Padma began pulling a confused and frightened Hermione towards the exit. They needed to get away, whatever Padma had felt, she knew it wasn't human. Before they could go a few steps, something large and smelly walked in. Beady eyes stared at the two girls, confused. Frantically, Padma backtracked, pushing Hermione back until the two hit the opposite wall. The beast let out a guttural grunt and shuffled forward. Hermione screamed.

* * *

Hadrian walked down the hall, his head bowed and thoughts far away. Once he and his professor/aunt had gotten back on school grounds the two had parted ways. She had headed to her office and had left him to make his way to the feast. Except, Hadrian didn't feel like going to the feast. It was a celebration after all. What did he have to celebrate? The end of the war? He scoffed; what did he know of the war? A lot of people had died; that's what he knew. Including his parents. He could still see their gravestones, joined together by vines and flowers. Aunt Minnie had explained Samhain to him – honouring the dead, dwelling in the fond memories of those who had passed on, celebrating their lives. He honestly did not feel like celebrating anything. Today was the day he had been orphaned after all. And so he wandered the halls, his ever faithful companion perched on his shoulder.

He could feel exhaustion creeping up on him and inevitably his thoughts turned to his bed. Thoughts of sleep and his bed quickly led to thoughts of that morning. He grimaced. Another reason not to feel like celebrating. "Hoot."  
"I know girl, I know." He sighed, frustrated. Trying his best not to let his thoughts wander down the depressing route he trudged on. He greeted the portraits that waved out to him. Some even wished him a happy Halloween – he ignored them. He turned a corner and recoiled. What was that smell? Had something died here? He brought his arm up over his nose, hoping to ease the stench. "Hoot." Hedwig's talons dug uncomfortably into his shoulder. She was tense. "What is it?" His familiar ruffled her feathers, agitated. Hadrian feeling cautious made his way forward slower, keeping close to the wall. Then he heard the scream.

He was running before he knew what was happening. Hedwig was a white streak ahead of him and he pumped his legs faster. Adrenaline surging through his body, he burst through the doorway and immediately ducked. "Whoa!" The large club went careening past his head, blowing his hair. He stumbled and slid on the wet floor. Quickly, he found his balance and looked up to take in the scene. The first thing he noted was that it was large. The second was that it was trying to bat away Hedwig rather unsuccessfully. His familiar was just too fast for the large arms that were swinging around the large club. It had been a discussion of one of their previous classes, they had been shown pictures of the creature; but seeing it in reality was a whole different matter. The troll – for that was what it was – was large, twelve feet tall and muscular. Its legs were large and rough like trees trunks, its feet large, flat and possessing two large toes. Its arms were long and powerful. Its grey skin looked rough, like hewn stone and had bits of moss and dirt clinging to it. Thankfully the troll was wearing rough clothes, put together from animal skin and pelts. A pair of screams alerted him to the other occupants of the room. "Padma!" His heart leapt into his throat; the troll swung at the two girls, the club singing as it split the air. The girls dived, splitting apart. The club crashed into the sinks, sending bits of rock and ceramic flying. A torrent of water burst from the ruined pipes, further flooding the room. The troll looked confused, staring at its club, expecting to see flattened girls under it. Hadrian rushed forward and slid down to Padma. "Come on, we have to go." The girl looked surprised to see him. He gave her a shake, "Padma!"  
"Hermione…" she wiped her wet hair from her face. "Where's Hermione?" Hadrian looked up and saw the bushy haired Gryffindor crouched by the stalls, frozen and looking terrified. His eyes met hers across the room and he nodded. "I'll get her, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, he was heading for the other girl, straight towards the troll. "Hey!" The troll swung around, little eyes blinking at the small boy. It raised its club and let out a challenging roar, bits of rotten meat and spittle flying out. Hadrian stumbled a few steps back; the sound horrible enough to stagger him. He glimpsed Hermione, in the space afforded by the legs of the beast, clutching her ears. Finding his courage Hadrian raised his wand and gave it a forceful jab towards the troll. "_Illuminatos_!" A bright searing light leapt from his wand and struck the troll. Sounds, high pitched cracks and whines accompanied it. The troll screamed in pain, the sound rattling Hadrian's bones. The beast stumbled around blindly and seeing his chance, Hadrian dived forward between its legs and then was next to a gaping Hermione. She seemed to be saying something but he didn't care enough to listen. He grabbed her and dragged her towards Padma who had finally regained her senses.  
"We have to go. Before it gets its bearings." Padma nodded throwing a furtive glance to the troll – it was bashing its head against the wooden stalls, turning them into splinters.

The trio quickly made their way to the door, stumbling and jumping over debris. Hadrian kept up a mantra, "_Almost there, cmon. Almost…"_ Hedwig let out a sharp angry cry. Hadrian threw himself down, pulling the girls with him. The large club went by with a great whoosh of air and crashed against the wall, cracking it – right above the doorway.

"No…" Padma chocked out. Hadrian made to try and rush out but Padma tackled him to the ground. Just in time, because with a deep rumble the doorway collapsed, sending up dust. Coughing and swiping away, the three got up and stared – their exit was blocked, behind a pile of stone. The three looked at each other, resigned, and turned as one to the troll. Hedwig was harassing the troll again – her sharp talons rending the beast's flesh.  
"How do we get out now?" Hermione asked, fear and frustration clear in her voice. She looked a mess. Her hair, wet, was clinging around her face. She had cuts and scrapes on her face and arms and her eyes were red. Padma suspected that she herself didn't look any better. She glanced at Hadrian, under the grime, he was pale, his eyes flitting frantically around the room looking for an exit.  
"What's the plan?" Padma turned to Hadrian but he didn't seem to hear her. She grabbed him. "Focus – Hadrian. What's the plan?" he blinked at her and turned to look at the ruined doorway.  
"Maybe we could transfigure it?" Hermione suggested, hesitant.  
"Into what? Needles? That won't help." Padma scoffed. Hermione glared at the other girl testily.  
"It's an idea, I don't see you thinking of anything." Padma opened her mouth to retort but Hadrian cut her off. "Levitation!" the two stared at him confused and so he started to explain quickly.  
"We move the stones, make enough space to get out."  
"The troll won't just let us take the time to make an exit though." Hermione looked at the troll anxiously. She blinked in surprise as Hedwig called forth a hail storm to blow the troll back.  
"We are going to need a distraction…" Padma said quickly, hiding her surprise at Hedwig's display. She would have time to freak out later.  
"I'll distract it, you two work on the stones…"  
"No," Padma interjected. "Two of us. It will increase our chances." Padma's tone brook no argument. Hadrian looked towards Hermione and she nodded shakily. Hermione watched Hadrian and Padma run screaming and throwing blasts of lights at the troll. Seeing that her friends had it well in hand, she squared her shoulders and turned to the stones; _swish and flick._

The troll met their charge and roared out a challenge. It raised its fists up and brought them crashing down. The ground cracked, rock and water spraying outwards and the room trembled and shook. The two first years fell, unbalanced. The troll took a menacing step forwards and Padma answered by throwing the same spell Hadrian had cast. The troll shrieked, stumbling back. In sync the two first years separated and went on either side of it. Hadrian snapped his wand forward, lifting the stray pieces of wood and stone, flinging it at the troll. It did little damage against the toughened skin only serving to irritate the beast. It lumbered forward, intent on hitting the annoying boy. A spell hit it right on the side of the head – upon impact there was a high-pitched whistle and fizz. The troll flailed and roared in pain from the sonic attack. Hadrian winced, even his ears were protesting Padma's spell choice. But it was working, the troll was on the backfoot. It was disoriented and kept looking between the two unsure on who to go for. It stomped its feet, sending water everywhere. Hadrian had an idea. "Hedwig!" He pointed to the water. His familiar let out an answering cry, sharp and forceful. She spread her wings to their fullest, a thrum of pale eldritch energy gathered at her centre, glowing. The bird dived. "Padma! Out of the water." Spurred by the urgency in her friend's voice, she scrambled up and away, climbing up some debris. No sooner had she gotten to safety, did Hedwig land on the floor, mere feet from the troll. The troll blinked. Then the temperature dropped, drastically. Starting from Hedwig, the water rapidly froze. Some instinct in the troll recognized the danger and it tried to get away, but it was too late. Padma watched fascinated as the water that was drenching the troll froze. Its legs were encased in a thick layer of ice, getting thinner until it reached its waist where it stopped. Its arms were stuck to its sides, unable to move.  
"Hoot." The tired sound made Padma look at the bird who had just trapped the troll. Hadrian was already kneeling beside his tired looking familiar. "You did good Hed." Good was an understatement, at least half of the bathroom floor, once flooded was now frozen, covered in inches of ice. "How did she do that?" Padma stuttered out, watching her breath fog in front of her. Hadrian grinned, his bright teeth a contrast to his dirty face. "I told you she wasn't some boring owl." Padma couldn't help it, she giggled. The grunt of the troll made her jump in fright. Hadrian chuckled and she glared at him. She looked at the trapped troll, its lower half was stuck in ice, it wasn't getting out. All they had to do was finish up clearing the doorway.  
"Guys? Is it over?" Hermione came jogging up, looking hopeful and relieved.  
"Yea, I think…."

CRACK!

The three turned to the troll, it was glaring at them, its dark eyes baleful and angry. Its thick muscles bulged as it strained against its makeshift restraint. Cracks appeared in the ice, spiderwebbing.  
"Shit, shit, shit." Hadrian looked around, but all he saw was stone and wood around them. An idea formed in his head, vague and dangerous. He stared down at his wand and the wood thrummed in his hand.  
"I have an idea, keep it distracted." With that, he darted forward and away from them. His plan was crazy but it just might work. He could feel his blood pumping and surging through his body. All his senses going into overdrive. He reached the first stone, "Please let this work." He held his wand tight and willed his magic to strengthen it, warm it, heat it up. He dragged it against the stone and left a scorched trail. His movements frantic and jerking, he quickly wrote down the rune. If it was rougher than usual, he paid it no mind, he was on a time table. Quickly he moved to the next stone and scratched another rune there as quickly as he could. In the background he heard the ice give with an explosion of sound. Bits of ice and cold blew past him. He paid no mind to the scratches and tears from the ice, so focused was he. Every time he wrote down a symbol with his wand, he could feel his magic trying to rush into it. But he held on to it firmly and kept it at bay, but the strain was taxing. His fingers were twitching and his arms were getting heavy. Trusting his companions, he focused on his task, keeping his breathing even and hand steady. The sounds of battle fell away into the background.

"Hermione!" Padma screamed; Hadrian looked up. There was a wet smack and something flew and tumbled onto the floor. The Gryffindor wasn't moving. The troll made to finish off the incapacitated girl. "No!" Padma raised a hand and a pale dome of energy sprang up around the downed girl. Two meaty fists met the shield and there was a bell like gong and an explosion. The troll stumbled back, its hands blackened and scorched. Padma was on her knees, panting and drenched in sweat. The troll looked at its ruined arms and then stared at Padma. Padma half stumbled, half crawled to her downed friend and stood over her protectively. The beast took a step towards them. "No…" Hadrian frantically continued to burn the rune into the stone, willing the process to go faster. _I'm out of time!_ Padma stared at the troll, defiant and raised an arm. "Stop." The troll took another step and Padma's resolve almost faltered but then she spoke again. "I said, **stop**." Her voice carried with it power and command and the troll stopped. It stood so still; it could have been a statue. Hadrian looked on dumbfounded. Padma had tamed the beast; robes torn, hair in disarray and her body cut and bruised, Padma had commanded a wild beast and it had impossibly obeyed. She was amazing!  
"Hadrian!" He looked again and suddenly he could see the strain. Whatever she was doing, she could not hold forever. Luckily Hadrian had finished. He placed his hand on the rock, right on the rune Thurisaz – the rune of reactive force, directed force of destruction and defence. His magic, ever eager shot into the runes. The draw on his magic was enormous and for a fleeting moment his thoughts went to his first use of runes. _Had he failed? Was this going to end in another explosion?_ He could feel that wellspring of energy inside him getting smaller and smaller. But then just as he wanted to panic, all the runes, linked during his inscribing, glowed with energy, his magic humming and the stones practically vibrating with energy. Padma dropped her hand, letting go of her strange hold on the troll. Before the beast could do anything, Padma took a step back, taking her out of the rough circle of glowing runes. Her eyes looked across the room and met Hadrian's. In that brief moment, there was a clear understanding between the two; trust. She gave him a nod and taking a breath he sprung his trap. "_**fulgaris incarcerem!**_" Then world burst into blinding light; the air burned, accompanied by a thunderous boom and a gut-wrenching scream. Silence.

"….drian. Hadrian!" Someone was shaking him, waking him. _Go away!_ He tried to bat the arms away, but everything felt far away and his arms were heavy and he felt warm and tired. But the shaking continued, "Shtap… Gerrof." He blinked his eyes wearily and colours blurred together to form a vague shape he recognized. "Aunt Minnie…"  
"Oh Hadrian, thank goodness." Suddenly he was warm again and something was wrapped around him. What was this? Oh, she was hugging him. With her help, he got up to his feet and looked around. The air was buzzing, hot and stifling. The smell of ozone and cooked meat filled his nostrils. Padma was sitting down, looking on as professor Flitwick waved his wand above Hermione. She found his eyes and nodded. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding – Hermione was okay, just unconscious. Inevitably his eyes went to the troll, or what was left of it. The area his trap had activated in was blackened and smoking. The troll itself was a charred lump of flesh, bits of it still popping and hissing. Professor Snape had a sour look on his face, though whether that was because of the smell or just his general disposition was anyone's guess. Another professor, a witch, much younger than McGonagall, was fretting around the charred mess, busy muttering and taking notes. Professor Snape turned to look at the deputy Headmistress and shook his head. Hadrian felt something twist in his gut. The troll was dead.

* * *

_Dear mom and dad,_

_Sorry I didn't write last week, but school got a bit a hectic. The professors gave us a lot of homework; isn't that great? Oh it's so very exciting, the things we are learning. There is so much I don't know, that the world doesn't know. So much lost history. Wizards, it turns out are really good at keeping records. You wouldn't believe some of the things muggles have wrong. It's incredible. Even some maps are completely off. I don't know how they do it, but I intend to find out how the governments did it._

_But now to the good news; it finally happened. I made friends, well it was just one at first, but now I have two. It just happened, rather unexpectedly. We were all working on an assignment about trolls, you see. And we got talking and found out that we worked really work well together. Both Padma and Hadrian (that's their names) are smart and Ravenclaws. They are nice, we have meals together and we read together. I'll tell you all about it when I get back for Christmas._

_With love,_

_Hermione._

_P.S The beautiful bird who was kind enough to carry my letter is Hedwig, she's Hadrian's familiar. She is not an owl, even if she looks like one._

* * *

Every few weeks the Hogwarts staff met and discussed how classes were going, various administrative duties and any other topics of interest. That morning, the meeting was quite obligatory, considering recent events. The atmosphere in the staffroom could reasonably be described as tense.  
"That boy ought to be punished…" Snape hissed, his expression sour, a sneer marring his face. "He has shown a complete disregard for school rules…"  
"You can't be serious Severus." Professor Flitwick said. His entire posture screaming protest and outrage. The short professor was standing on his chair. His moustache bristling. "That boy saved his friends from a troll. A feat no other first year has ever boasted in Hogwarts history."  
"He killed that troll…" the Hufflepuff head said pointedly. A scoff sounded off to her right. A dark haired witch looked at her disbelievingly, "You want to hold that against him? Really? The thing was trying to kill them. Would you have preferred he ask it nicely? Offer it a cup of tea?"  
"Enough Avery, you've made your point." Minerva's sharp voice cut off any further argument. She turned to the disgruntled potions master, "We will not be punishing any of the kids. What does is say, if we punish our students for defending themselves?"  
"Minerva makes a good point," the headmaster interjected. He was looking out the window – in the distance they could just make out some students flying on brooms, enjoying the morning sun. He continued, "The real issue is how a troll managed to get out of confinement and attack our students. Mr Quirrell?"

Professor Quirrell almost flinched when everyone looked at him. He swallowed audibly, and felt sweat collect on his brow. Bowing his head apologetically he explained himself, "It is my fault, a lapse in judgement had me entrust the duty of securing the beast with my teaching assistant…"

"Of course you would shift the blame." Snape's voice cut in coldly, his dark eyes regarding the Defence professor with disdain.  
"Severus." Dumbledore chided lightly. The headmaster looked at Quirrell his eyes appraising. "An investigation will be conducted and those responsible will be held accountable." Quirrell inclined his head in acquiesce.  
"Can we talk about the runes now?" the youngest person in the room said excitedly. Professor Babbling, had brown frizzy hair and had only been teaching for the last five years. She was also more importantly the school's resident expert on Runes, teaching the subject to those students third year and up who were interested.  
"I do admit a certain curiosity myself." Flitwick said, having finally sat down. Dumbledore gestured for Babbling to take the floor. The young woman vibrated with excitement.  
"It's brilliant really, what he did – yes its rough but still…"  
"Get on with it woman." Babbling blushed and then composed herself.  
"What he did was use the basic concept of a trap with runes and he weaponised it. That's not exactly new but the way he went about it…" she shook her head trying not to get too technical. "He used elder futhark to ground it and then overlaid it with Greek runes."

"Wouldn't that make it volatile? I thought the languages don't mix well."  
"Yea, usually. But you can tweak them to work together. The fact that he managed it in that situation is incredible." She was practically gushing.  
"Both Greek and Futhark are good for channelling celestial energies, I think he used both to amplify the effect."  
"I should imagine. The boy summoned a storm of lightning in the middle of a room. Char boiled the unfortunate creature." A few of the professors looked queasy at the imagery.  
"I don't think he meant to do that." She looked thoughtful. Seeing the questioning looks she explained, "Like I said, he took a basic trap; paralysis and tried to modify it, adding electricity for a bigger stunning effect. I mean he probably knows that troll hide is magically resistant and was banking on that. His math was off though, way off. It happens." She gave a careless shrug. "Thankfully, it didn't blow up in his face, that would have ended badly."

The various professors shared looks of worry and concern. They didn't want to imagine just how badly things could have gone.  
"Obviously it would be better if you could take him under your wing." professor Sprout suggested.  
"Oh yes give the boy even more reason to have an inflated sense of self." Minerva sighed irritably at the potion master's attitude.  
"Well I could try and teach him a few things over the weekend when I have the chance but with Mr Flamel coming soon…"

"Time will be few and far between. I understand." The venerable headmaster smoothed. "I'm sure we can impress upon mister Potter not to actively experiment until he has some proper supervision."

* * *

The troll incident was kept quiet by the staff; so obviously the whole school knew about it by the end of the week. Padma found the stares to be a nuisance, fidgeting under the scrutiny. Before this she had a been largely unknown, but overnight even seventh years knew her name. Was this how Hadrian felt most days? Speaking of her friend, "Would you stop that." She threw him a glare and he smiled sheepishly. His expression turning apologetic. "Sorry." They were in the library, waiting for Hermione and Neville. Hadrian bored, had been tapping his wand against the table. The sound, Padma discovered, was annoying when she was trying to think.  
"Are we going to talk about what happened?" Padma sighed at the question. The aftermath had been a surreal experience for her. The room had been trashed, the floor broken, gouged and smoking; it had been littered with wood, stone and ceramic. Padma almost imagined that a bomb had gone off in that room. If an explosion was the equivalent of three first years taking on an enraged and confused troll. She shuddered uncomfortably. The image of what remained of the troll crept into her mind. Blackened, charred remains. It had not struck her until afterwards but they had survived against a troll – they, well mostly Hadrian, had managed to kill it. Three first years. Professor Quirrell, their Defence teacher had, in class, stressed that the best way to deal with a troll at their age was to confuse it, with loud bangs and lights, and then to get the hell out of there. That's what they did, almost textbook, throwing around lights and sounds. The plan, if it could be called that, had been going well. Then it had gone from well to hell. Yet here they were, the talk of the school, and they had come out of it unscathed, mostly. The image of Hermione's prone body had kept her up the past few nights. She turned to Hadrian; he was looking at her expectantly. They had not really had a chance to talk about it all. "How did you do that, with the runes?"

"I told you that I dabbled…" Padma choked out a laugh of disbelief. She looked at him disbelieving.  
"Dabble…?" she asked, her hands gesticulating wildly, outraged. Hadrian looked at her bemused. "That's not something that someone who dabbles can do. That was advanced magic."  
"No it wasn't?" he frowned at her. He couldn't understand what she was talking about. "Look all I did was take a simple trap, Absence of Movement, combined it with a paralysis cluster and then upped the power to…."

"I think you went a bit overboard on the power." She winced when Hadrian flinched, his complexion paling. She reached out and grabbed his hand. She gave him a gentle squeeze when he looked at her questioningly. He let out a noisy breath of air before gathering his thoughts. "Absence of Movement can't hold a person for long, and a troll is just beyond it – but it was the first trap I ever made and I know it inside and out. So I used it – the paralysis sends a jolt of electricity, meant to lock up the victim's muscles. I guess it didn't mesh really well or maybe it did…" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I admit I would never have tried something like that normally, not yet at least, but I had to do something. Right?" He looked at her, his green eyes beseeching.  
"Right." She answered, giving him a firm nod. She believed that. If he had not, she had no idea if she or Hermione would have been okay. She understood his desperation. Her eyes strayed to her fingers and she clenched them in remembrance. Her impromptu shield had worked, her magic responding to her desires in her desperation to save her friend. But it had taxed her and the troll was going to crush them; but then **that** had happened.  
"What about you? How did you get the troll to stop?" She blinked at him, not knowing what to say. He took her silence to mean something else and he tried to explain. "It looked like, well, like you commanded it. Like you were in control, holding it." His voice dropped a few octaves and had a disbelieving edge to it. Padma felt her heart hammering in her chest. She stared down at the desk, following the trail of grain in the wood. She felt something swell in her belly, warming the tips of her fingers with nervous energy. It was frightening. She had dreaded this – had been expecting him to ask. In her mind she had run through this scenario a hundred times. She had imagined saying something clever and witty, diffusing the situation. She had imagined fabricating an elaborate lie, cover up her secret. It had all worked in her mind, seemed so easy to stare into Hadrian's incredibly expressive eyes and just lie. A little lie, nothing serious and it wouldn't matter. But that would be the lie, this was serious, it would matter. Hadrian was her friend, and in the deep corners of her mind she admitted to herself that he was quickly becoming – he was her best-friend. After what had happened, did he not deserve to know? After that moment they had shared – terrified and exhausted she had trusted him, without any idea about his plan, she had placed not only her life but Hermione's life in his hands. It was an indescribable feeling, freeing and terrifying, knowing that someone else held the thread of your life. She stared into his eyes and he met her gaze and held it. It was certainly reckless, what she was about to do, but no more reckless than trusting him to subdue a troll. Her father and Awa had told her, warned her. _People do not enjoy baring their soul, little one._ Letting her thoughts fade to the back of her mind, she spoke.  
"I'm an empath." She licked her suddenly dry lips, nervous. Hadrian was looking at her, head tilted ever so slightly to one side. It was the same look he gave the professors, when they grabbed his attention with something he found particularly interesting. She continued talking, before her resolve faltered, "I feel people, their emotions, their intent." Hadrian's eyes widened, a question on his lips, but Padma cut him off, "Sometimes – sometimes if I concentrate enough, or if I'm touching someone, I can influence the emotions."

"What does that mean really? Influence?" Hadrian asked, his brow scrunched in thought. He was leaning towards her, their voices low. Padma wrung her hands, trying to figure out how to explain it. "It's not so easy to put into words. Emotions are like clouds, sometimes bursts of energy I think, but different somehow." Padma sighed irritated, not finding the proper words to convey what she felt, what she knew to be true. It had been like this when she had been younger; feeling things that she could not truly grasp, not yet understand. "There are spikes and ebbs and flows and…" she mimed with her hands, fingers twisting into shapes before she gave up. "When I feel them, I always get this impression that I can grab onto them, tweak them, push and pull."

"So if someone was irritated or annoyed. You could push them, stoke them to anger?" she grimaced at the emotion he had chosen but she nodded nevertheless.  
"Yes, or calm them down. Though for some reason that's harder. Maybe because anger is a hot emotion…." Hadrian looked at her, somewhat confused.  
"So the troll…?"  
"I was desperate, Hermione…." They shared a look and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I just wanted it to stop and I could feel it there, right in front of me. This mass of emotion and intent. So I just reached out," she raised her hand, forcefully grasping the air and making a tight fist. "I just grabbed on tight, and told it to stop, and it did." Like a puppet with strings the troll had obeyed. But she had not been a puppet master, she had felt the troll struggle under her will. Its will, its identity fighting her every step of the way; but she had held on, tightened the threads that had connected her to it. she had dominated and she felt horrible. She said none of this to Hadrian though, there was no reason for her to tell him how much more horrible she was.

Hadrian stayed silent, digesting what she had just told him. His emotions were a jumbled mess and Padma shied away from them. Padma expected Hadrian to look at her in horror. She had just told him that she could read him like a book and could to some extent influence what he felt. People did not like to know that they could lose control like that, especially because of someone pulling on their strings. Hadrian would soon leave, when he realised this. She was ready for the inevitable explosion from him. She cringed when he opened his mouth and said, "You are such a badass." _Wait, what?_  
"What?" Hadrian was grinning at her, a vast contrast to what she had been expecting.  
"It's cool. Like Hedwig's ice powers. She's not any plain bird and you're not just any plain witch." Hadrian nodded to himself as if he made any sense to Padma.  
"You're not afraid?" Padma asked eventually. Hadrian looked at her surprised, his face scrunched up in thought. "Should I be? Nothing has really changed; you were an empath when we met and nothing happened."  
"But what if I mess with your emotions?" Hadrian looked at her seriously.  
"Would you?"  
"What? No, I would never…"  
"Then it's okay." He shrugged carelessly. The arrival of Hermione and Neville stopped any response she could have come up with. "Hey guys." Hadrian offered them a wave, moving aside and letting Neville sit beside him. Padma only managed a half sincere smile, distracted as she was, her mind still processing what Hadrian had said.  
"I finally got a letter back from my parents…" Hermione was saying when Padma finally tuned into the conversation around her.  
"What did they say?" Hadrian asked, leaning forward slightly, quill poised above his parchment. Padma too turned questing eyes to her friend, curious. Hermione shrugged, affecting a careless air about her, though they could tell it was forced. "It was just the usual. They are happy that I made friends though." She smiled tentatively and was answered by smiles in return. "I don't want to worry them, you know?" she chewed on her bottom lip. "My father would freak out and make a big fuss, even though I'm perfectly fine; just a few bruises." Hermione said with fond exasperation. Padma frowned. They had all escaped with light injuries _including_ Hermione. The same one who had gotten a direct hit from a ton of raging troll.  
"How did you manage that anyway? You should have had some broken bones at the very least…" Padma said disbelievingly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad, incredibly glad you, we, are all okay. But…" she trailed off unsure.  
"Madam Pomfrey says I used Augmentation instinctively…" Padma nodded in understanding. Hadrian frowned, not understanding. "What's Augmentation?" Surprisingly it was Neville who answered. "It's a type of internal magic, affects the body. You flush the body with magic, enhancing speed, reflexes and strength. Aurors are supposed to be really good at it." he blushed at the surprised eyes directed at him. "You seem rather versed in the subject Neville." Padma observed.  
"Well it's how my family figured out I was a wizard; my granduncle threw me from the window and well I bounced…" he ducked his head. The two girls were looking at him in horror. Hadrian laughed. "It's not funny." Padma glared at the dark-haired boy. Hadrian chuckled then grinned at Neville, the shy boy offered a faint smile. "Imagine Neville being bouncy." Hermione giggled at the image she conjured in her mind. She quickly stopped and glanced at Neville; afraid she had offended him. She need not have worried. Neville was blushing but he was also smiling. Taking the joke in stride.  
"Um hello…" Padma turned and saw Ron's slightly flushed face. She glanced back at Hermione; the other girl was stone faced, but Padma could feel her quickly spiking emotions. She swallowed back her initial response, pushing back against her anger. "Ronald…" she relished his flinch. "I don't think you should be here…" She gave him a fierce glare and he shrunk back. His eyes told the story, he was very uncomfortable and didn't want to be here either but he glanced at Hermione and found his resolve. Padma opened her mouth to say something else but Hermione beat her to it, "What do you want?" Hermione's voice was rough and strained.  
"Could we um talk in private?"  
"No." Ron grit his teeth, clearly he had been hoping to do this away from prying eyes. But Hermione was not going to budge. Padma noticed Hadrian looking on confused; catching his attention she shook her head gently. Ron seemed to struggle for a moment before he spoke, his voice surprisingly steady. "I was a big jerk the other day. I was angry and frustrated and I took it out on you. That wasn't right, it wasn't nice; those things I said…" he was rambling and he noticed. He took a deep breath before he spoke again, "I'm sorry." There was a tense silence following his declaration. Ron fought the urge to scratch his nose; it felt itchy with all the staring. "It's okay. Apology accepted." Ron seemed to visibly deflate in relief. His posture slackening, going into his customary slouch. He smiled nervously, "I um promise not to blow up again when you try to help me out." Padma poked Hermione in the side prompting the girl; "I promise to try and not be so – forceful." Hermione glanced at Padma and the Indian girl shrugged carelessly. Ron's smile turned into a grin and he nodded satisfied, "Right. I um I'll be seeing you." Without waiting for a response he left, dashing away; unmindful of the librarian who looked at him with such scorn.  
"What was that all about?" Hadrian finally asked.  
"Hermione turned Ron into an arse." Neville blurted out. Padma burst into giggles and Hermione ducked, her face flushing and a pleased smile stretching her lips. The librarian soon kicked them out.

* * *

Amelia stood in the observation room, staring down the obstacle course through the viewing window. Her expression as usual was stern, but her dark eyes shone with interest. She smirked when she saw one of the new recruits stumble and get blasted back by a trap. She remembered her own training, when she was just a fresh recruit. It felt like a lifetime ago, when she had been naïve and hopeful too. But the job had quickly taken care of those childish traits. Still a part of her envied them, so bright eyed and hopeful, ready to change the world. She heard the door open behind her, and then someone was standing beside her. "Shack." She acknowledged with a nod. "Director." She heard him shift, his cloak rustling.  
"Tell me, what do you think of our new recruits?" Shacklebolt showed no surprise at the unexpected question, instead he peered down the course. There was no fear of being seen from below. The glass was one way and they were shrouded in shadow anyway. A fearsome grizzled man was barking orders at the recruits. His staff cracking hard against the ground, sending sparks and spells whizzing at his students. Shacklebolt winced internally, remembering his own training at the hand of the same man.  
"Is he not being a tad excessive?" he asked; watching in fascination as the very floor shifted, turning into a swampy bog, trapping a few unfortunate recruits. The director shrugged carelessly, "The man gets results." There was no denying that, Shacklebolt conceded. Most of the current crop of Captains had been trained by the fearsome man, himself included.

A flash of pink caught his attention – one of the recruits, a slim girl with bubble-gum pink hair, was weaving through the course gracefully. She would pivot and spin on a dime, leaping and ducking, avoiding the everchanging obstacles in her way. Her goal – a flag stuck atop the mound at the end of the course. There was something abnormal about the way she was moving. He found himself leaning closer. The girl was closer now; a conjured solid shield keeping the flames at bay as she powered forward. There was a sense of anticipation, her fellow recruits were cheering her on. Hoping one of them would finally beat the course their bastard of an instructor put them through. The man slammed his staff, causing the very air distort and a wave of force rolled toward her, ripping the floor apart. The girl kept running, a look of utmost concentration on her face. Before the wave was upon her, she threw away her shield, the motion turning her in a half-spin and then she blinked away with a crack and reappeared, meters away, her body completing her spin. The wave was behind her and she grinned. Victory seemed assured – but then the man was there, his staff extended, jabbing at her legs. She tripped and fell into a roll. Before she could spring up, ropes snagged her form, winding tight against her. The ropes glowed, trapping her from shoulder to ankle. She fell with an oomph. Shacklebolt leaned back and let out a sigh. He had been rooting for her.  
"She is gifted, but overconfident. She forgot the objective was to get past him."  
"Overconfidence can be beaten out of her and Moody will certainly have her paranoid in no time." The two shared a smile. Moody was a gifted man, a resource the Auror Office could not quantify. But the man was eccentric, a quality that made him an excellent officer but had also had led to many lawsuits over the years.  
"Her movements, there was something off about it…" Shacklebolt frowned. Amelia chuckled at his expression. "I'm glad you noticed. Plus it's no surprise that you can barely remember her, even if you met her a year ago. She keeps changing her face." Her smile widened when Shacklebolt looked at her appraisingly. "Is that an extension of her ability then?"  
"No, but it is a creative use of it. She shifts her body weight around, not a lot mind you but just enough to matter." Shacklebolt looked down at the field, specifically at the young woman. She was standing at attention as Moody lectured them.  
"That is impressive."  
"It is – it wasn't months ago of course. But she is dedicated. They all are." With a final glance at the recruits Amelia turned away, motioning Shacklebolt to follow her. Her office may have been large but it was also spartan; a consequence of both her tastes and budget cuts. Shacklebolt settled himself on the chair across her desk. Amelia shuffled some papers and signed a few, while Shacklebolt waited patiently.  
"So tell me, how goes the investigation?" Amelia finally asked, her hands steepled together, leaning forward.  
"We managed to acquire some information from one of the runners. There seems to be a struggle to fill in the vacuum left by William's demise. While that's going on, nobody is really interested in keeping the usual order."  
"Didn't they have an heir?"  
"They did, but it turns out he wasn't first in line. The old bat had a child hidden somewhere. So the clans are split two ways, especially with how suspicious William's death was."  
"They think it was an attempt to usurp power?" she asked leaning back. Shacklebolt nodded grimly. "Do we?"  
"We don't have enough evidence – but if you asked me, it fits with the profile we have on him."  
"Even if we had the evidence, the Accords wouldn't let us interfere until it spilled over…" Amelia tapped her fingers on her desk, thinking. The killings had started nearly a year ago; or perhaps it was better to say that the first body had been found back then. It had been a muggle and so they had not paid it much attention, it was out of their jurisdiction after all. Then a body had turned up in Knockturn Alley, not the most unusual of things to be honest, but the body's condition was. Arranged to mimic sleep, the body had been tucked between two buildings, the skin pale and grey and the body entirely drained of blood. _She was such a pretty thing too, that waitress, _she thought sardonically. An investigation had revealed a trail, that went back to that first muggle, and led all the way to the mainland. All the bodies had showed similar characteristics; body with little to no blood at all, they were all left in alleys as if asleep and most importantly they were young and beautiful girls. It had not been hard to come to a simple conclusion; they had a freaking vampire with a fetish for beautiful girls off its leash and she just knew that it all had to do with the power struggle going on within the vampire clans.  
"Fudge has been breathing down my neck about this. Not that I actually believe he cares about those victims – it has more to do with how his image will suffer if we can't provide any answers to the murders." She reached for her decanter and poured herself a glass. She would have offered one to Shacklebolt but she knew he didn't drink on the job. She gulped down her drink and grimaced at the taste. Fudge was turning her into an alcoholic.  
"Coordinate with your counterparts on the mainland. I want the net tightened, I want the son of the bitch sweating and paranoid."  
"Yes ma'am." He stood smoothly and offered a quick salute before departing. Amelia shook her head; Shacklebolt was one of her most reliable Captains, the consummate professional, stolid on the job. Still, he could lighten up a bit, maybe share a drink with his stressed-out boss once in a while. She glanced down at the reports on the recruits. Their training would be over in a couple of months soon and then they would be put under the direct command of a senior operative. She grinned as she looked at one file, _Yea, this one will work quite nicely._

* * *

"_Protego_ is the most basic and simplest protective shield you will learn. Offering decent protection from both physical and magical attacks, it is a handy tool for any young wizard…" Professor Quirrell's whiny voice filled the classroom. Hadrian tried to concentrate but his headache seemed to ebb and flow with Quirrell's voice. His head throbbed, the pain flaring and digging into his scar.  
"Hey." Padma's cool hand found his and he turned to her. She was looking at him concerned, her gaze flickered to his forehead. "You don't look so good." Rather than talk back, he only offered her a strained smile. "Harry…"  
"Padma I'm fine, its nothing. Drop it." He ignored the look of hurt that flashed across her face briefly before she looked away. He swallowed the tightness in his throat and tried to concentrate on the lesson. It was hard, what with his head pounding and Padma giving him concerned looks every once in a while. Thankfully the lesson was only a theory class and they weren't required to cast anything. Sooner than usual, Quirrell dismissed them. Thanking their luck, the students filed out of the classroom in a hurry, eager to enjoy the rest of the waning afternoon. Padma and Hadrian quickly made their way to their dorms, to change out of their uniforms.  
"I still think we should go see Madam Pomfrey," she said as they made their way down the stairs. Hadrian sighed for what felt like the hundredth time.  
"Padma it was just a headache, how many of those have I had?"  
"That's my point, you have them often enough. It could be serious."  
"Well it's not, honestly I feel better already." He wasn't lying either. He had taken a quick shower and the water had done wonders for his pain. His headache was now a negligent throb that he barely paid mind to. Outside the main doors they met up with Hermione and Neville. Neville looked relieved to see them. "Was Hermione talking your ear off again Nev?" Hadrian grinned making both Neville and Hermione flush in embarrassment. Hermione shifted the large book she was cradling against her chest.  
"What's the book for?" Padma asked curiously, tilting her head to read the title; _A Compendium of the Magical Birds of Europe, 8__th__ Edition._ Hermione glanced at Hadrian, shifting slightly.  
"Well, I have been researching. You said you don't know what species Hedwig is and she is clearly so much more than a simple messenger owl." She said quickly.  
"Well you won't find anything in there, I already checked." Hadrian shrugged. Hermione looked disappointed. "Really? I thought you said it didn't matter what bird she is." Padma pointed out. Hadrian adopted a sheepish look, pouting. He kicked a pebble in front of him. "Well it doesn't, but Hedwig has been so smug ever since the whole troll incident. She knows what she is but she won't tell me." Hermione looked bemused. "Tell? Hedwig can talk?" Hadrian shook his head, "No, she can communicate. Sounds, impressions, feelings, images." He shrugged carelessly.  
"I didn't know that we could communicate to birds like that…"  
"Its not we, Hermione," Neville interjected startling the girl. The quiet boy turned to Hadrian. "She's your familiar right?"  
"Yea she is." Hadrian turned to a confused Hermione and explained. "Hedwig and I have this magical bond; that's how we communicate. Apparently its fairly common among Magi." He laughed then, "Before Professor McGonagall told me I used to think the other owls were just plain rude and didn't want to talk to me." The other three laughed as well, even Hermione who was still somewhat coming to grips with the revelation. "So can anyone have a familiar?"  
"Well yea, it takes years though – haven't you noticed a few of them in the dining hall?" Neville asked her.  
"I thought those were pets?"  
"Pets aren't allowed in the dining hall."  
"Oh."

Hagrid's cottage was down the slope from the school, near the forest. Hadrian expected to be welcomed by the large bloodhound Hagrid had, but the hut was oddly deserted. Padma peered in through the dirty window, trying to catch a glimpse of the inside. "I don't see anyone in there," she said turning to her friends. "His bed is massive by the way." Padma observed, making Hermione giggle. Neville scuffed his shoes on the path, sending pebbles tumbling down. "He said he would be here. I have never known him to lie." Hadrian said disappointed. He had been looking forward to talking to the half-giant.  
"Maybe something came up, some sort of emergency." Padma said hopefully. "Yea maybe." Hadrian answered distractedly. _What was that?_ He plonked down from the steps and made his way around the cottage, ending up in Hagrid's vegetable garden. Massive cabbages and pumpkins greeted him but he ignored them. He peered into the dark tangle of trees ahead of him. "Hadrian?"

"Did you guys see that?"

"See what?" Padma asked coming to stand level with him. Sweeping her gaze across the trees she saw nothing. The afternoon was turning quickly into evening, the shadows not only long but darker, making it hard to pick out things. Then something shifted. Someone gasped; the creature was beautiful. "Unicorn." Hermione said breathlessly. The unicorn was a soft fiery gold in the waning light, its eyes luminous. Hadrian took a step forward, that proved a mistake. The foal bolted, slipping into the forest seamlessly, its golden hooves sparking when they hit the ground. Hadrian was already running after the magical creature before he knew what he was doing. "Guys wait!" Neville called out at his friends, the girls not far behind Hadrian. Neville glanced back, seeing the towers standing as sentinels in the darkening sky, he steeled his nerves and followed after his friends.

It never occurred to Hadrian, or the girls that they had just entered the Forbidden Forest. Chasing after the unicorn, as so many young witches and wizards had done before them, it was easy to forget. The foal kept just ahead of them, teasing the children into believing that they could catch it. Even Neville with his earlier misgivings soon got into it. The sparks from its hooves lit the way and the children eagerly followed, going deeper and deeper into the forest. The terrain quickly changed, where before it was open and flat, the trees started to grow thicker, the roots twisting across the ground. Deeper they went and the sky grew darker and the air chillier. Hadrian stopped, panting and breathless, his sides hurting. "Where did it go?" He turned and looked at the girls. Hermione was leaning against the trunk of a large gnarled tree, catching her breath. Padma was kneeling on the damp mossy ground uncaring of the dirt. Hadrian looked around for Neville; he expected the other boy to be flushed from their exertions, instead Neville's chubby face was pale.  
"Neville what's…"  
"We shouldn't be here." Neville said fretfully, his eyes darting all over, his hands close to his body. Hadrian finally gave 'here' a proper look. The trees loomed above them, their branches blanketing the sky, leaving them in gloom. A cold fog was curling around their legs, giving the twisting mass of roots below them an ominous feel. The air felt heavy, something was lurking in the shadows. Hadrian grew anxious. He had made a mistake, chasing after the unicorn. A stupid mistake. The girls seemed to have realized it too, their eyes looked around trying to see past the shadows between the trees. Hadrian swallowed his suddenly dry throat. He looked at Neville, the Gryffindor gave him a helpless look. He opened his mouth to say something, what it was he didn't know, luckily a sound cut him off. It was muffled and pained. The four shared a questioning look, none of them knew what it was. The sound came again, emanating from beyond a grove of trees in front of them. Hadrian nodded towards the trees before carefully moving forward. He was, thankfully, wearing his dragonhide boots today and they barely made a sound. The four creeped forwards, keeping low to the ground. The sounds were louder now; it sounded like pained whinnying. Was it the unicorn? Trapped in a bush maybe? They cleared the rise and was met with a gruesome sight. It was a unicorn, but not the one they had been chasing.

There on the ground lay a beautiful horse, its coat pure white and glowing softly, its hooves were golden and its mane the purest silver. Its pale horn gleamed against the dirt. It would have been enchanting, had the creature not be thrashing in pain, held down by a phantom with its head hovering over its neck. The phantom was sucking, blueish-silver liquid dribbling down its front, the unicorn's blood. The four watched in horror as the unicorn grew weaker, its blood drained by the greedy sucking. This was wrong, a fundamental injustice. Hadrian felt momentarily numb and then his scar flared, bursting into pain. "Ah!" He shifted and slipped, tumbling down the rise, the knots in the roots scraping and scratching him. He crashed and stopped at the bottom, a tangle of cut and scratched up limbs, head throbbing. Disoriented and in pain he did not see the cloaked phantom rise and turn to him. "Hadrian, run!" Heart racing, he scrambled to his feet and turned finding himself face to face with a darkened cowl. A gripping cold seized him, numbing him – he couldn't run, his legs frozen with fear. His scar flared up, sending white hot pain stabbing into his forehead. He crumpled; his vision darkening. The creature glided forward, a pale hand stretched forward, reaching out for him, blue veins standing out starkly against the translucent skin. "No!" a bolt of magic came speeding toward the creature, the air burning in front of it. the creature turned its head and with a casual flick batted the bolt away. The bolt drilled into a tree with a crack, sending splinters everywhere. Padma looked pained. Hermione whimpered and Neville was shaking, his wand raised and gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white. Hadrian wanted to shout at them, to yell at them, _get away!_ But the only sound he managed was a pained gurgle. Before they could do anything, the creature gestured, sweeping and grand. The forest came alive – vines erupted from the ground, thick and strong, sending up bits of rock and earth flying. The vines lashed out, wrapping around the three would be rescuers. The kids fell, bound tight unable to move or talk, the vines going up all the way to their mouths, gagging them. The creature turned to Hadrian – he whimpered. The pain in his scar burned any thought of magic from him. He couldn't even grasp the energy; couldn't muster up the concentration. His magic seemed to recoil from this being. All he could do was try to crawl away, his fingers digging into the damp earth, trying to pull himself from danger. _Help me!_ The creature grabbed his leg. Its fingers were icy and the cold stabbed into him. Hadrian screamed and his leg burned. His skin sizzled, smoking and hot. The creature screamed, a horrible wail and let go. Its hand was badly burnt, the skin red and raw. Hadrian took deep gasping breaths; he was sweating and his chest and throat were burning. His leg had gone numb and he could barely move it. The phantom reared back, standing to its full height, arms raised. Hadrian could feel it, the energy building up – the air sparked, full of charge. Fear made him desperate and he dug within himself and grasped his energy, hoping to protect himself. Then there was the sound like thunder and the earth rumbled and the trees crashed. The phantom turned to the trees just in time for something to crash into it. The creature was sent flying, it tumbled into the trees. Swiftly, like a puppet on strings it rose up and surveyed this new threat.

Centaurs, a dozen of them, were in the clearing or stalking the edge. Half horse, half human and over seven feet tall, wielding bows and spears, they were a fearsome sight. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, the creature retreated, slinking away into the shadows. The centaurs proceeded to cut the vines trapping the kids, freeing them. Hadrian managed to scramble up to his feet, wincing when he put weight on his numbed leg. One centaur, blond with strikingly blue eyes approached him. Hadrian barely reached the shoulders of his horse half. "Hadrian Potter." The centaurs voice was a deep baritone, calm and placid. "You know me?" Hadrian managed to ask, his wand slipping into his hand. The centaur noticed but dismissed the action. "I do. I am Firenze. We watched as you and your friends chased foolishly after the unicorn." Hadrian shuffled uneasy. It had only been a few minutes and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. "We must go." Firenze offered Hadrian his hand. Hadrian looked at the large hand, it was rough and calloused. Hadrian looked at Padma, his gaze conveying his question. The empath's eyes met his and even in the dark he could see the brown of her iris. She nodded; it was barely imperceptible. Hadrian took the hand and was hoisted up on Firenze's back. The other centaurs hissed, their faces darkening. "Have you no shame! You would let this filth shame you!" A dark-haired centaur clomped forward, his bow drawn and his frame radiating anger and outrage. "We do not have time for this, take the children." Firenze ordered.  
"Oh you want us to shame ourselves too, you are a disgrace!" the other centaur looked ready to let loose an arrow at Firenze. The other centaurs shifted, some moving closer to Firenze and the rest towards his rival. Hadrian gripped his wand tight, his magic vibrating in anticipation. His three friends had adopted a defensive position, their backs against each other. They were scared, but they would fight. "Enough! I am chieftain and you will obey." His eyes were hard and unflinching, staring down the dissenters. Many could not meet his gaze and bowed their heads. The other centaur looked away, looking mulish. He stamped his hoof on the ground before turning and leaving. A few others followed him. Firenze looked down for a moment and Hadrian was tempted to ask what had just happened. "Let us go." Three centaurs came forward and took the other three. Travelling by centaur through the forest was vastly different than going by foot. It was faster, far much faster. The trees and underbrush were no obstacle to the forest dwellers. Hadrian could feel Firenze's powerful muscles pumping and coiling underneath him. He clung on, the wind whipping his hair and praying he wouldn't fall. There was no talking, the tense atmosphere making any attempt awkward, and even if they had wanted to, the wind would have stolen their words away. In mere minutes they were at the edge of the forest and they disembarked. Hadrian felt wobbly, and Neville looked sick; at least he hadn't thrown up all over the centaur carrying him, it would have been quite rude. The girls looked fine surprisingly; Hermione was even grinning. The other centaurs quickly departed, saying nothing, leaving the four adventurers with Firenze.  
"I-um-thanks. You saved us back there and…" Hadrian begun awkwardly but Firenze waved him off.  
"It was nothing. We were happy to do it. We have been hunting that creature for many nights now, today was the closest we came." There was a note of frustration at the end there.  
"Still thank you." Hadrian said sincerely.  
"What was that creature? Was it some sort of vampire? Feeding off the unicorn like that." Hermione said, a shiver running through her at the memory.  
"It is a leech," Firenze said with disgust. "To kill a unicorn, a creature so pure…" he shook his head, his blond curls tumbling. "Then to have the audacity to drink its very lifeblood – it is a crime, an evil."  
"Why would it do that though?" Hermione pressed. Surprisingly the answer came from Padma.  
"Unicorn blood is powerful, given freely, it can be used as a curative. It is a powerful ingredient in the most potent of healing potions."  
"You are right. Unicorn blood will keep even one that is on the brink, on the very verge of death alive. But to drink it as that creature has done, to defile such a thing." The centaur bowed his head saddened. "It invokes a curse, one lives a terrible life, a half-life, a cursed existence."  
"But who would do something like that? You would have to have nothing to lose…" Neville said worriedly.  
"…And everything to gain." Firenze finished for him and then turned to stare at Hadrian. A terrible thought visited him then and he felt bile rise up his throat. "No…" he whispered desperately. But it made sense; his scar, how his magic had recoiled, the mark left on his leg, it all made terrible sense. His friends looked at him confused and worried. He paid them no mind, his attention on those blue eyes.  
"It is as you suspect child." Padma stepped forward and placed her hand on Hadrian's shoulder; he was shaking. "Hadrian, what's wrong? Tell me…" the contact put into clarity his muddied emotions; horror and fear. Padma recoiled as if burnt. Even when they had been facing the troll Hadrian had never been this scared, this afraid.  
"It was Voldemort."  
"Oh."

* * *

**A/N Phew! That took a while. To the second guy who ever reviewed; Rain, that troll sequence, yea that's what your review inspired. It fed my muse and voila. Anyway, this is perhaps my first fully fleshed out fight/action sequence for this story. Please feel free to tell me how I did, where it made you cringe and whatnot. It will definitely help in the long run. Christmas is just around the corner so maybe this is an early xmas present, who knows. Maybe my muse will go into overdrive and I'll manage to churn out another chapter or two before the year is out. We will see. **

**Read, enjoy and please Review.**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Thank you**

* * *

**INHERITANCE**

_The finest inheritance you can give to a child is to allow it to make its own way, completely on its own feet_

…_..__**Isadora Duncan**_

* * *

The bird was at the edge of her perception; teasing her, mocking her. She tried to ignore it, to concentrate. The sudden burst of song didn't help her in the least, and so she opened her eyes and glared. The bird stared back at her; black shining eyes curious. It twittered merrily and Padma pursed her lips. She delved into herself and like something clicking in place her perception of the world changed. It was no longer just sight and sound – stimuli she could not grasp before suddenly came to the fore. The pulse of life and the vibrancy of emotion filled her metaphysical senses. She ignored all else and concentrated on the bright ball of life and energy in front of her. She probed; caressing its energy. Believing she was now familiar, she reached out, a larger tendril, stronger; "_Stop."_ The bird twittered again, uncompelled. Frustrated, she tried again and again the bird mocked her. She let out a frustrated cry, a sudden gust rushed forth snapping the branches back. The bird was gone, either swept away or having fled, it did not matter. "I thought we were meditating." Padma flinched, flushing in embarrassment. She had almost forgotten that she wasn't alone. Ironic considering the point of the exercise. "Um yea. The bird, it was um distracting?" the guru hummed and opened an eye, peering at the young tree, now bent oddly. "Well I see you got rid of it." The man said affably. Padma winced. She hated when he did that – disapproving while being so uncaring. "That was an accident."

"Evidently." There was a beat of silence before the man let out a sigh. Getting out of his pose and stretching out his limbs for a moment before he looked at his young student. Padma tried to adopt a calm and collected expression but she was less than successful. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing?" Padma answered quickly, too quickly. He raised a disbelieving brow and stared pointedly at the tree. "Really?" Padma looked at the ground, suddenly finding the blades of grass quite interesting.

"Your grandmother tells me you're having trouble sleeping." He stated casually. Padma started, surprised and looked up at him, her expression inquisitive. "She told you that?" She accused. "Why would she tell you that?"

"I am your teacher, your guide; and she felt best to tell me. If something is troubling you…"

"I'm fine, okay?" she looked up at him and quickly looked away, unable to hold his gaze. "I think it's just the different time zones and late astronomy classes…I'm having some trouble adjusting."

"That makes sense." It didn't. Padma knew it and so did he, yet he wasn't saying anything, and Padma was thankful for that small mercy. Neither of them said anything else for a time. Padma absentmindedly played with the grass, her fingers tracing the edges of the blades. She stared down at the town. She could see people, tiny from this far, and she imagined what they were doing right now, early in the morning. The baker would be lighting his oven, getting his pans ready. The fisherman would be bringing in his overnight haul and the grocer would be arranging his fruits.

"Can I ask you something?" she found herself saying suddenly.

"Anything."

"_To walk in another's shoes_ – do you think it's possible? Truly?" Still she did not look at him, but in her mind's eye she could see him. His forehead crinkling in slight thought, his jaw tightening as he mulled the idea over.

"With your gift, it very well might be…"

"But I just feel emotion, intent…"

"Yes. And what better way to understand someone, than to feel what they feel, to sense as they do?"

"A mind reader could."

"Perhaps." He said agreeably. "But legilimency is a poor substitute, except for those who it comes naturally to."

"Like me."

"Like you." Here he took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I have told you before that the Mind Arts are a difficult field, a difficult magic and the rules, the restrictions placed on it, make it hard to research. Your empathy…" he shook his head, cutting himself off. Padma felt his agitation before he mastered himself. "Empaths are nothing new," He continued to say, "But rarely is the gift so well expressed as it is in yourself." Despite herself Padma felt a swell of pride. It must have showed on her face because he shook his head. "I do not say this to praise you or put you in a pedestal. It is a gift after all, not something you worked to gain. But I tell you this to caution you. There is a reason, you have these sessions with me." Padma lowered her head, thoroughly abashed. She chewed her lip, nervously, mulling over her next words

"You once said I was dangerous." Padma said, accusation bleeding into her words despite her best efforts. He nodded, solemnly, unperturbed by her tone.

"Yes. Untrained, you are. Dangerous to not only others, but to yourself as well. So you must train and master yourself and this gift, else one day you may delve where you ought not to." Padma wanted to tell him that she had already delved into something she wasn't supposed to, but fear and uncertainty held her back. This wasn't Hadrian, who trusted her and accepted her easy explanations. This was a man, wiser and more cautious, who knew just what her abilities were and could be. So as she stared into his pale eyes, she decided against it. She would figure this out herself. Her hand crept to her neck and stroked the delicate band of gold. "What about my necklace then? You said it was meant to contain my gift."

"It is, but it cannot do so forever, lest it do more harm than good. The older you get the less it will affect you, the enchantments burning away as your power grows." She frowned. That night, post troll, while they were being fretted over in the hospital, her necklace had felt warm in the hallow of her neck. Was that what he meant? Had she pushed her powers beyond what the necklace could contain for those few moments? It certainly seemed so. A familiar presence entered her field her of perception and she turned, looking towards the house. The guru's eyes followed hers. Parvati was making her way through the garden towards them, looking a little unsteady on her feet.

"We shall continue this session and talk another time then." He stood up, in a single smooth motion and offered her a smile. "I shall see you soon, little student." He inclined his head. Padma quickly got up and brought her hands together and bowed, "Thank you master." He offered her another smile before with a half-turn he disappeared in a swirl of cloth and leaves.

"He doesn't like me much does he?" A sleepy voice asked behind her.

"No, it's not that. We were done for the day and he had to go." Padma offered reassuringly. Parvati rolled her eyes at her sister, before she sat down heavily, almost dropping to the soft grass. "Always the peace keeper, aren't you?"

"One of us has to, considering how much trouble you'll raise once you're in charge." Padma grinned playfully at her sister and then had to dodge a swat from Parvati. "You shouldn't speak that way to me," Parvati affected a haughty tone, her nose upturned obnoxiously. "I could have you banished; you know." Padma snorted and the two girls shared a laugh. Parvati sighed, closed her eyes and leaned her head against her sister's shoulder. Padma adjusted slightly so that her head rested atop Parvati's. "Why are you up so early?" Padma asked after a while. Parvati mumbled something Padma couldn't catch. Annoyed, Padma flicked her sister on the head.

"Ow!" Parvati mustered enough energy for a glare. "I said, I was supposed to go dad today. He left before I could get ready."

"You sound sad about it. I thought you hated sitting around all day, stuck in meetings."

"I did, I still do…" Parvati huffed, her brow crinkled up in annoyance. "It's just that I thought I could give being responsible a go…."

"No!" Padma said in mock horror. Parvati swatted her upside the head.

"I really did. Dad sat me down before we went to school and we had a talk. I was hoping to give it a shot you know, make him proud." Padma wrapped her arms around her sister and Parvati did the same.

"Maybe he just forgot or something. He has been busy lately." Padma offered helpfully.

"He's also been acting weird, you know?" Parvati sat up suddenly, almost sending Padma tumbling. Parvati, unmindful of her sister's heated stare, continued. "Just the other day, he was talking to a captain of the Seema Gashtee and well, it was weird."

"Parvati, father talks with the Gashtee often, that's nothing new."

"Well this was – I went to get a snack late that night…" Padma nodded, familiar with her sister's nocturnal habits. "…and well I saw them out, by the courtyard. They were whispering and the captain looked shifty, like he was in a hurry."

"That is different." Padma conceded slowly. Usually her father conducted meetings in his office and met with the various sections of the military once every week or so. He did not conduct clandestine meetings in the shadow of night. "Maybe it was just some sort of emergency." Padma said searchingly, but her mind was a whir of thoughts.

"Yea could be. It will probably blow over soon." Parvati agreed, quickly dismissing it all. But Padma was quickly coming to think there was more to it. She remembered that overheard conversation between her father and grandmother one cool morning months ago. Another thought occurred to her; one she had dismissed at the time. Parvati and her had been accompanied by more guards than usual when they had ventured to the bazaar a few days ago.

"Parvati, I think…" Padma started but was cut off.

"Why is that tree bent." Padma started. Her sister had her head tilted, eyes wide and looking at the tree, seemingly noticing it for the first time.

"I may have lost my concentration a bit, sent a gust of wind at it." Parvati looked at the tree and then back at her sister before she grinned slowly, her teeth gleaming.

"So you _blew up_ at it?" Parvati wiggled her eyebrows. Padma groaned and hid her face in her hands.

"That was so corny…"

"Hey, I thought it was clever!" Parvati protested.

"Of course you'd think that. But that was just sad."

"Oh ha ha. You know I'm the funny one, right?"

"No you're not, you're the fun one, but I'm funnier than you."

"That doesn't make any sense at all." Parvati said wide eyed, hands splayed out for emphasis.

"Just because you don't get it doesn't mean it's nonsense."

"Well I will have you know…" Parvati stopped and squinted. A speck of white was growing steadily closer until she could make out its general shape. "Is that an owl?" Padma turned to look and yes indeed it did look like an owl, a very familiar not owl.

"Hedwig." Padma cried, surprised and elated. The bird veered off to their left and then suddenly dived. There was a muffled squeak before Hedwig twitched her leg and the sound died out.

"Did she just kill a mouse?" Parvati asked and then screwed up her face in disgust as Hedwig proceeded to tear into her plump morsel. Padma ignored her sister and approached the bird. Hedwig barely paid her mind as she stroked the pure white feathers in greeting. _Master-friend. Greeting. _Padma smiled at the rush of impressions she got from the familiar. She then untied the small matchbox she saw attached to Hedwig's leg. The box, now in the palm of her hand, shivered and shook, growing in size until it was larger than her whole hand. She smiled at the handy piece of magic; idly wondering how he got around the magical age restriction. _Probably with runes_, she smiled fondly and only a little exasperated.

"What are you smiling about? Did your boyfriend send you a present? Rather late wasn't he." Parvati said, peeking over Padma's shoulder.

"Parvati for the last time, he is not my boyfriend. We are eleven."

"So?" Parvati asked, eyes wide with beguiling innocence. Padma rolled her eyes and decided to ignore her sister. She opened what she presumed was her Christmas present. A slim book greeted her. "He's quite late, isn't he?" Parvati's voice floated airily. Padma bit her tongue, swallowing away her biting retort. Picking up the note, she read;

_Merry Christmas Padma! I thought you would like a good read over the holidays._

_P.S. Could you feed Hedwig; the long flight will probably make her peckish._

She snorted at the last part. Her eyes landed on Hedwig, who it seemed had finished off her snack. Peckish indeed. Carefully she took the book and fingered the title; _**The Gentle Touch:**__ An Introduction to Healing_. An indescribable warmth filled her and she felt her cheeks tingle, her smile stretching them wide. She had said it in passing, but it seemed Hadrian had picked up on her interest in healing. Thinking of Hadrian inevitably brought her mind to their latest adventure before the Christmas break.

_Firenze left them at the edge of the woods. The centaur had murmured some words to Hadrian before disappearing into the dark forest. The four walked, unhurried, the crunching of gravel underfoot the only sound between them. Hadrian was in front, pale and staring determinedly forward. Neville brought up the rear, staring at the ground, lost in thought. Padma and Hermione were in the middle and kept glancing at either of the boys worriedly. Hermione looked at Padma and then stared pointedly at Hadrian. Padma frowned, what was she supposed to say to him, what could she say? 'Hey chin up, there's no guarantee that it was the Dark Lord…' If she had been anyone else, this would have seemed reasonable, plausible. But she wasn't anyone else, she had __**felt**__ that creature. It was so inhuman and filled with so much anger and rage that it had left her paralyzed. She had felt its perverse sense of triumph as Hadrian had laid there in pain. The sense of vindication, of vengeance, had been so suffocating and overwhelming. So when Hadrian had said His name, Padma had known it to be true. She looked back at Hermione and shook her head helplessly. Hermione scowled. The Gryffindor witch squared her shoulders and quickened her step. "Hadrian." She placed a hand on his shoulder. He stopped; shoulders stiff. "We have to talk about what happened." Hermione said firmly. There was a beat of silence before Hadrian sighed and turned around reluctantly. He avoided looking at the other three, his eyes darting between the sky and ground, zealously avoiding the sight of the forest. "We have to tell the teachers about Voldemort…" Neville let out a strangled noise. The boy was looking at Hermione, eyes wide with fright and face overcome with horror. "You said it…" He said shakily, accusingly. "You said his name." Hermione frowned bemused. "You mean Voldemort?" Neville squeaked, stumbling a few steps back and frantically made a strange gesture, twisting his hand and pushing away. Padma recognized what he was doing – she had seen her grandmother do something similar, to ward off bad spirits and omens, she had said. "I don't know what's wrong," said Hermione, quite confused. "It's just a name."  
"Just a name? You have no idea. We never say His name – it's bad, very bad. The name is jinxed…." Neville clammed up, but he kept shaking his head at Hermione.  
"I've heard of this," Padma said, placing a hand on Neville's shoulder, looking at the boy with worry. She rubbed soothing circles across his back. Slowly Neville visibly calmed down. "Back in the war, it's said the Dark Lord placed a curse on his name, so that he could always know who was talking about him."_

"_You can do that?" Hermione asked with obvious interest.  
"He could." Neville answered, his voice quiet. "If you said his name, he and his followers would find you, wherever you were and then they would…." Neville got a faraway haunted look in his eyes. "We don't say the name ever." The note of finality in Neville's voice was clear. Hermione looked at Neville, seemingly seeing him for the first time. "Still we have to tell the teachers…"  
"And say what?" Hadrian interrupted. "Oh, by the way professor, my friends and I chased a unicorn into the forest and met what might or might not be Voldemort!" Hadrian said sarcastically. Neville flinched, "Dammit would you stop saying that!" The other three turned to look at Neville owlishly. They had never once heard the soft-spoken boy swear. "Sorry Neville." Hadrian said, feeling contrite. Hadrian let out a sigh, looking at Hermione's determined face. "We can't, okay?" Hermione scowled. "The teachers might know what to do, they could deal with Vol- the dark lord."  
"But that's the thing, I'm not sure it was Him, just because my scar hurt – it could have been anything."  
"Firenze said it was though and you didn't disagree." Hermione argued back._

"_We only just met Firenze and I-I…" Hadrian looked at Padma for some help but she gave him a helpless shrug. "…I was in shock. That can happen sometimes…" he finished lamely. Despite his weak argument, Hermione paused, thinking about it. Padma then decided to throw in her two knuts. "I don't think your scar hurting means it was the dark lord. Scars left over from curses can react to dark magic and creatures." Ignoring how Padma even knew such a thing, Hadrian jumped on that point. "See Hermione, Padma agrees with me."  
"No I don't. I'm just saying that we shouldn't rule out any ideas. Plus telling the professors is a good idea. They ought to know about the unicorns at least." Hadrian deflated; he had been expecting her to agree with him.  
"Maybe they already do." Neville said slowly. "My gran, she told me once that the creatures of the forest had a good relationship with the school. She said nothing ever happened in Hogwarts without Dumbledore knowing about it."  
"That's probably something parents say to kids; to scare us from mischief. Even if it were somehow true, it doesn't mean that the professors _do _know though…" Hermione said archingly._

"_What are ye lot doing ov'r there." The kids jumped at the booming voice, hearts leaping into their throats. It came as a genuine surprise when they turned and saw Hagrid standing a few feet from them. His dark woolly coat blending with the deepening darkness, the line of his mouth was stern and in his massive hands was a crossbow as big as Hadrian. They stood staring at him, particularly the intimidating weapon in his hand.  
"Well?" Hagrid asked.  
"Um, we were out for a walk, an evening stroll." Padma said quickly, her voice surprisingly bright and pleasant._

"_We came by your hut earlier but you weren't around, so we went um strolling." Hadrian added awkwardly, the other three nodded in support. Hagrid looked at the four of them suspiciously before letting out a sigh, his breath fogging over like the exhaust of a train. "You shouldn't be near the woods, this late. The centaurs sent a report to Dumbledore earlier today, some bad business with the unicorns you see – can't talk about it so much." Hagrid said the last part in a whisper which was ironic considering how loud his whisper was. The four kids shared a look before Hermione spoke up. "Mr Hagrid…"  
"Oh jus' Hagrid, I'm not that old." He let out a throaty chuckle.  
"Right," Hermione seemed unsure. "So, Hagrid, this business with the centaurs, does it happen often?" The other three cringed at Hermione's obvious attempt at fishing for information. So it was a surprise when Hagrid didn't call her out on it.  
"Nah, those centaurs, they like to stick to themselves you see. Though…" Hagrid seemed to look at them contemplatively before he continued, "…last couple of months they have reached out a lot more."_

_The four looked at each other; so this wasn't an isolated incident, just like Firenze had said.  
"We should get going Hagrid, I – we will see you later then?" Hadrian motioned towards the castle.  
"Right you are. Back to the castle with you lot." He gave them a jaunty wave and headed off towards the treeline. "Oh and Hadrian…" he called out before he disappeared into the shadows. "Best wipe that blood off your jumper, wouldn't want it to stain now would we."_

That encounter with Hagrid had almost sent them into a near panic. Even Hermione who had advocated for a meeting with the professors had a change of heart. It was one thing to come out and admit that you had broken school rules and it was another to be found out during the process, Hermione had said. They had experienced a few nerve-wracking days, waiting for one of the professors, maybe McGonagall to call them in the middle of a class and somehow announce their expulsion. But it never came. Like the jumper Hadrian had stuffed into the bottom of his trunk; Hagrid, it seemed, had forgotten the encounter, or at least he had kept it to himself. Padma did not want to imagine how a conversation with both the headmaster and her father would have gone. It was plain luck that none of her misadventures had reached her father. Padma frowned at the thought – it was rather weird, now that she thought about it.

"Is the book any good then?" Parvati asked with obvious contempt. Padma blinked, finding herself in the here and now. She traced the title of her book and smiled. "Oh yes it's a nice gift. A very thoughtful one." It really was thoughtful.

* * *

The forest was thick, its depths impenetrable and hidden in shadow. Hadrian could feel something in the air; a certain watchfulness – as if some creature in the shadows was observing him, trying to decide if he was friend or foe. He felt wary – the last time he had gone into a forest had not ended well. As if hearing his very thoughts, a phantom pain made itself known on his left leg. He closed his eyes and took a breath, putting the memories to the back of his mind.

"Well we don't have all day, get on with it." Hadrian glanced behind him. Ripclaw was not a morning goblin, he surmised from his banker's sour expression. Uncle Vernon was standing beside the ill-tempered goblin, bundled up in his thick coat and hat. Hadrian looked back at the forest; he felt an unnatural urge to turn back, a pressing need to be elsewhere. His leg twitched, the muscles spasming for a moment before he mastered himself. Ripclaw had told him that this would happen. _It was the wards, the various enchantments that protected this place. _ Hadrian steadied himself, filling his head with resolve. The feeling, the _urge_, came again but it washed around and over him, like a rock in a stream, parting before him. He took a step forward pulling out his wand and he felt that watchfulness return, stronger, but now there was something else there, something familiar – anticipation. He raised his wand and its tip glowed, the light pulsing in tandem to his heart. He brought the wand to his mouth, almost touching his lips and whispered; "_Revelare."_ His words stirred the wind and it carried into the forest and with it went his power. For a moment there was nothing; the sound of birds faded and the wind stilled. Then, like a still lake with a stone dropped into it, the forest in front of him rippled and suddenly there was a path. The trees parting and forming an arch that led into the depths. Hadrian could glimpse a fain light at the end of the tunnel.

"Well damn, even I felt that." Uncle Vernon's voice startled Hadrian. He turned and found his uncle beside him looking surprised.

"Is it-is it always like that Ripclaw?" Hadrian asked, finding himself out of breath. There was something in the air, he was starting to feel heady.

"A Potter hasn't been here in over a decade. The wards must be excited." The goblin said casually. Hadrian nodded before something crossed his mind, "Wait are you saying wards can be sent…"

POP! Hadrian and Vernon quickly turned around to see what had popped amongst them. Dressed in dark robes. the being was short, a little over three feet, had creamy skin, a large long nose and floppy ears that were currently brushing against the grass from the deep bow. The being straightened up and peered at them with large luminous eyes. "Master Potter." Its voice was strained and full of emotion. Those large eyes were staring at Hadrian, full of adoration. Hadrian felt awkward, "Hello." He smiled nervously. Large eyes lit up and before Hadrian knew what was happening, he was being embraced. "It has been so long, so long Master Potter sir. Duff is pleased, oh the joy master…." Hadrian cringed when he heard the little being sniffle. His coat was going to be a mess. He looked at his uncle, hoping for help but the man looked just as lost as him. Hadrian looked at Ripclaw. The goblin looked irritated, he let out a huff that sounded more like a growl. "Honestly, house elves are such drama queens. They get weepy over the littlest thing…"

"Wait, he's an elf?"

"Yes, a _house elf_ and your steward. Now calm him down already." Hadrian gently patted the elf's little back but that only seemed to make it worse. Hadrian panicked and grabbed the elf by his slim shoulders, "Hey, hey calm down, alright?" the elf sniffled and rubbed its eyes before it stared at Hadrian, apparently calmer. "Okay, I'm Hadrian Potter, something I think you already know, which is weird as I never told you my name…"

"Oh of course Duff knows who Master Potter is." The elf let out a bell like laugh and Hadrian felt like he was the butt of some joke somewhere. He decided to concentrate on something else, "Duff, your name is Duff?"

"Yes master Potter. I am Duff, the oldest and last Potter elf and also Keeper of the lands." Hadrian nodded, mentally connecting Keeper of Lands with steward.

"It's nice to meet you Duff and you can call me Hadrian."

"Certainly, Master Hadrian." The elf bowed briefly. Hadrian looked helplessly at Ripclaw but the goblin just motion at the watch on his wrist. "This," Hadrian gestured to his uncle and it seemed for the first time that Duff noticed the large man. "…is my uncle, Vernon Dursley." The elf stared before nodded. "Nice to meet you Vernon." Hadrian then turned to introduce Ripclaw but the goblin waved him away, "We know each other. Now come along elf, let's get this over with." Duff folded his arms and scowled, "I don't take orders from you, sour puss." Vernon let out a snort at the scandalized look on the goblin's face. "Come Master Hadrian, your home awaits." The elf took a hold of Hadrian's hand and led him through the path. Vernon and Ripclaw followed.

The first thing he noticed when they emerged from the path, was the smell of salt, mixed with the scent of grass and flowers. The sea glittered in the distance, with a mouth of white blending in with the valley that unfolded before them. The second thing that he noticed was the weather; where before it was cold and uncomfortable, now it was merely cool and a faint breeze tickled his nose. They were on a hill and it sloped into the valley, forming knolls as it tumbled down. The valley was overgrown with flowers, broken up by trees and bush. On the far side Hadrian could see that the forest wrapped around the valley and tapered out by the cliffs. Hadrian felt a strange pulse around him and couldn't help the nostalgic smile. "You feel it, don't you master?" Hadrian looked down at the elf. Duff's large eyes shined with knowing.

"What is it?" he could feel it wrapping around him, down to his bones – he felt giddy, excited?

"It is the magic master. The magic of the land, of those who came before – they are welcoming you…"

"Home." Hadrian looked towards the cliffs, massive white things, carved out of the earth by water and wind. Atop it he could just make out a building and he knew what it was. They made their way down a barely defined path among the tall grass. It was here that the veneer of beauty started to crack and chip at the edges. Clumps of grass and brush had grown over piles of stone and masonry. As they went further in the, Hadrian saw more ruin, hidden within the fine greenery. Crumbling walls, rotting wood, and charred stone. Nostalgia gave away to melancholy and the land echoed loss. On what Hadrian guessed was once a park; dark metal lay twisted and ugly and even nature was hard pressed to cover up the scar of the land. On a once forgotten breeze, Hadrian felt he could hear this place, full of children, laughing and playing. He could see it in his mind's eyes, unbroken and whole but now no more. They came to a stop in front of a fountain, in what was once a grand courtyard, held together only by the weeds and vines that were chocking it. The statues that once topped the fountain lay in the dried-up pool, broken and unrecognizable. Hadrian felt his stomach clench, a nasty feeling of hopelessness welling up inside him. He turned to look at Duff and the elf seemed to wilt under his gaze. "What happened here?" he asked, his voice brittle. This place was supposed to be his family's home, their stronghold, their legacy and yet there was nothing but ruins and broken dreams.

"War is what happened." Ripclaw answered, his voice gruff and face sour. Hadrian stared at the goblin, at his weathered visage and looked away.

"You family had always held onto their beliefs and way of life and over the centuries they have had many an enemy. In the last war your family was neutral…"

"What? But my father – my parents fought against Voldemort."

"He did, but only after the Dark Lord razed this town to the ground and brought your family to the brink of extinction." Ripclaw said darkly.

"Master James was only in his fifth year." Duff sniffed. Hadrian felt his eyes burn and his vision blurred. He sniffed and hot fat tears trailed down his cheeks.

"Hey, hey, hey. Its okay, its okay…." Vernon's smooth voice cooed into his ear and Hadrian found himself wrapped in warmth and affection. The two magical beings looked away, giving the two some form of privacy. Neither of the two said anything; they both knew loss and there was a strength to letting out one's sorrows.

It was akin to thunder, Hadrian mused, watching the sea batter the cliffs. Massive towers of water collided with the cliffs with a deep rumbling boom. Torrents of sea spray leapt up, caught on the wind and burst into a symphony of colour in the sunlight. Hadrian watched this from the cliffside, looking down at the rocks below him, his body tingling with every dull boom.

"You shouldn't sit so close to the edge." His uncle came to stand behind him, his boots crunching on the gravel.

"Duff says there's an enchantment, shoots you right back up if you fall." He turned to his uncle grinning. "I was thinking of trying it." Vernon stared at his nephew; Hadrian's eyes were still red from crying and he could tell the boy was putting on a brave face. Vernon let out a chuckle.

"And have your aunt send us both to an early grave?" Trying hard not to look at the edge, Vernon inched closer, "The goblin, Ripclaw, left. Said he had stuff to do." Hadrian only nodded distractedly. Vernon let out a sigh and then reluctantly sat down beside him. The older man looked down and shuddered. It was a long way down and those rocks looked awfully sharp. Hadrian pretended not to notice how uncomfortable his uncle was acting, instead he looked towards the beach. Away from the cliffs the rock became sand, pure white. It was a curious transition because everything got calmer away from the cliffs; the sea wasn't a frothing mass of noise and destruction and sharp hard rock became hills of sand. Perhaps that was why the port was built farther away from the cliffs, where the water could be mistaken to have stilled. _Or maybe it's just some sort of enchantment._ Hadrian couldn't say either way to be honest. His morning had left him feeling extremely out of his depth.

"Hey," a large arm wrapped itself around him and he leaned into his uncle's warmth. The valley didn't feel cold, Duff had mentioned something about enchantments used to temper the weather. Hadn't that been mind boggling.

"How are you dealing with all this?" his uncle's voice rumbled deep from his chest.

"It's a lot and I don't know…" Hadrian looked down at the valley. His eyes now clearly able to see past what first impression had hidden. The scars that nature had failed to reclaim on its own. This had once been a large settlement and all that was left was the port, a shadow of its former self.

"They expect me to rebuild all this." He knew. He had seen the hope in Duff's eyes, heard the subtle hints of plans existing from Ripclaw.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to. It's yours, you can do whatever you want."

"Wouldn't that be a waste?"

"Would it?" Hadrian moved, abandoning the warmth of his uncle's embrace. He stared down at the valley. "But all those people, those portraits we saw – my family did so much and-and I can't just do nothing. I want them to be proud of me…"

"I'm proud of you, so is your aunt." Uncle Vernon interjected.

"I know, but it's different, you know? My mom and dad…my whole family, the Potters – the way people talk about them. I don't want to let them down." Vernon chuckled and Hadrian flushed, he felt embarrassed and angry. He felt like a child. _But you are a child,_ a little voice chided him at the back of his mind.

"You know both my grandfather and father were in the army." Uncle Vernon said suddenly.

"I-um what?" the non sequitur threw him off balance.

"Yea and so I wanted to be in the army too, you know?" he leaned back, laying his head over his arms and stared at the sky. Hadrian fidgeted, clamping his mouth shut to stem the questions popping into his head. Uncle Vernon continued; "So I joined, right out of school and it was good for a while and then it wasn't. I think, maybe I didn't have the fortitude or maybe it was something else that I lacked. I never looked into it beyond the feeling of wrongness I felt. I struggled with it, had sleepless nights, but eventually I went with what felt most right. So I left."

"But wasn't it what you wanted?"

"It was – or at least I thought it was, at the time." He let out a sigh before pulling his head up and peering at his nephew. Uncle Vernon gestured for Hadrian to lay beside him.

"Both my father and grandfather had been in the army, served their country and they were damn proud of it. I looked up to my father, God rest his soul. I wanted to continue his legacy you see, to make him proud – another Dursley man, serving the queen. It was a good dream, but it was the wrong dream." Hadrian stared up at the pale sky, the clouds were flat curtains of delicate silver. He didn't know what his uncle was trying to get at; it was frustrating.

"So are you saying I shouldn't want to rebuild this place?"

"I'm saying that you should, but only if it's what you _want._ You shouldn't chase a dream because it's what someone expects from you or because they will be proud. Don't chase a dream you think someone else would want you to chase. If you do that, your heart won't be in it, you'll always wonder if that's what you were meant to do. Instead, do it for you, do it so that you can be proud, leave your own legacy."

Hadrian looked to his side, down toward the valley. He saw the reach of nature, reclaiming unused paths, saw the broken rubble of once towering buildings. Something, warm and powerful, welled up inside him; and for a moment he didn't see ruins. Instead he saw gleaming stone and burning crystal, a beautiful beacon on the coast – and then the vision was gone. Hadrian sat up, breathless. His uncle followed suit, worried. "Something wrong?"

"I am going to rebuild it." Hadrian turned, looking at his uncle, his eyes full and shining with determination. His uncle looked at him for a moment, their gazes never wavering. The older man smiled and let out a chuckle, "I can't wait to see what you come up with then." Hadrian grinned before he lay down again. Absentmindedly he played with the ring on his right hand, letting the crashing waves lull the two into a peaceful silence. Hadrian then remembered something; "I don't know anything about construction or running a town." Vernon laughed.

"The latter you can learn and the former, well I'm sure we will figure it out."

"Thanks uncle Vernon." Vernon just hummed in acknowledgement and the two once again lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"A shame we have to get going soon – I could get used to a view like this." The sun was going down, bathing the horizon in reds, orange and purple. The sea shimmered gold and the frothing waves gleamed silver. It was a beautiful sight. "Come on." Uncle Vernon clambered up, jigging his legs a bit to get rid of the numbness. He pulled his reluctant nephew up and they made their way to the ruined manor house. Once it had been a grand building but fire had gutted a good chunk of it and while most of the valuables had been saved, the ancient home of the Potters was a write off. Hadrian stood in the foyer, the main staircase hung there, broken and leading to nowhere. Light from the sinking sun filtered in from the ruined roof ad walls. Despite the obvious ruin, the manor was well taken care of, the rooms clean and aired out. Duff haunted by the devastation to his once proud family had clung on to his duties. Hadrian found the idea to be bittersweet. A pop signalled the arrival of his steward. "Will Master Hadrian be going now?" the elf asked wringing his fingers, looking forlorn. Hadrian felt a well of sympathy for the elf.

"Yea, I have to get back to school soon, but I'll be back." Duff perked up when he heard that. "Over the summer…" Hadrian glanced at his uncle who nodded. "I'll visit as much as I can and we can talk about all those plans you said grandfather had." Duff sniffled, nodding his head so vigorously Hadrian was afraid it would fly off the elf's little neck.

"Duff must give master one last thing," the elf dipped his hand into his pockets and rummaged about. "Duff has kept it with him all these years, keeping it safe, as Lord Potter ordered." The elf pulled out a worn looking book, and reverently held it out to Hadrian. Feeling a slight trepidation Hadrian took the book. It was surprisingly cool to the touch and the cover was made of some type of dark leather reminiscent of his favourite shoes. "The cover is made from the hide of a Hebridean Black." Hadrian nodded distractedly, running his fingers across the cover. He noticed something and tilted the book making the light hit it just so. The Potter crest winked at him, golden against the black leather. "What is this book for?" He opened it, turning the pages – all of them were blank.

"It is a journal; it was your grandfather's and before that his father and before that his father and so on. It was passed down to the eldest child of the main line."

"So does that mean that my father wrote in this….?"

"No." Hadrian swallowed his disappointment.

"Master James never collected the journal – but now it passes to you, the last Potter."

"But if they all wrote in this why is it blank and shouldn't it be bigger?"

"Magic, Master Hadrian." Hadrian flushed, feeling a bit stupid for forgetting such a thing. He nodded before tucking it into his backpack. Uncle Vernon took out a tie from his pocket and wrapped one end around his hand, Hadrian took the other end. He looked at Duff for the last time, "Take care Duff."

"You too master Hadrian, next time I'll take you to meet the nymphs." The elf waved enthusiastically.

"Wait what…?" Too late – the portkey activated and the two were whisked away. A swirling cacophony of colour and light later and they landed unsteadily back in the closet of Privet Drive. Vernon found himself stuffed between two thick coats and swore.

"The goblin could have chosen a better place surely." He grumbled, struggling out of the closet. Hadrian barely paid attention, still thinking about what Duff had said about nymphs.

"I'll go put this away." He gestured to the journal and headed towards his room.

"Be quick about it though, I can smell supper." Vernon made his way downstairs, presumably to steal a bit of meat from the pot. Hadrian smiled, amused by his uncle's antics. He opened his room and placed the journal on his desk. He was taking off his coat when he spotted a curious brown package on his bed. He threw his coat away absentmindedly before picking up the brown paper package. He turned it this way and that, shaking it, trying to guess what was inside. The package remained curiously unforthcoming. Shrugging, he tore away at the paper and something like liquid silver spilled out with a note sitting innocuously on top of it. He picked it up and read the looping letters;

_Your father left this in my care. Its time it went back to its rightful place_

_Use it well._

He frowned, rereading the short note. It didn't even offer a hint as to what he had gotten. Putting the note aside for now he picked up his 'gift'. The cloth was cool to the touch and felt silky smooth, it would catch the light in strange ways, shimmering silver and grey to his eyes, something shifting with its depths. He stretched it out fully, or as far as his arms could go, trying to figure out what it was. An inexplicable urge found him and he spun it round his shoulders draping it over himself. Despite the cloak being cool to the touch he didn't feel any colder. In fact, it felt quite comfortable, safe even, strangely enough. Hadrian wondered at the sensation, was the cloak magical? It must be; just from the way it looked, it hinted at something. Strangely enough the usual magical buzz he got from magical items was strangely silent so maybe it was just a nice to look at cloak?

"Hadrian dinner is ready – AHH." Hadrian spun around; eyes wide with surprise. His aunt was at the door, pale and looking at him gobsmacked.

"What's wrong."

"Where-what happened to your body." She stuttered out. "Vernon!" Hadrian confused, looked down. His legs, chest and arms were gone. He could see straight down to the carpet. "Ahh!" he jumped back in fright and his strangely invisible legs that he could still feel attached to his body got caught on something and he tumbled to the ground. The cloak slipped off his body.

"Your body's back." His aunt exclaimed more surprised than relieved. She looked helplessly at Vernon who had just got there, his lips suspiciously greasy. Hadrian rubbed his stinging behind and looked at the cloak then at his left foot that was still under his cloak; a foot he couldn't see but still feel. "Oh, so that's what it does. Neat."

* * *

Isaac cursed; the ice had broken again and his leg had promptly sunk into the cold and wet. Pulling roughly, he got unstuck and looked at Caleb. The older vampire was the picture of calm and poise, seemingly gliding over the terrain, his clothes pristine except for the unavoidable flakes of snow. Isaac pulled his coat tighter against himself and continued to navigate the forest they were in. The trees loomed above them, stark and bare, branches covered in heavy snow. There was a subtle breeze; carrying with it a melody of scents and noises. The musk of reindeer, the pounding heart of a rabbit thirty feet to his left, the soft crooning snore of an owl, high up in a dark alcove of a tree. These blended together with the background of pine and snow. But there was something else in the air, something light and distinct. It teased his senses and they had been following it for days now. He was irritated and getting sick of these dreary woods. "Why the fuck are we in gods know where, trudging through the snow? We know where the girl is going."

"Can't handle a little cold?" Caleb mocked, looking over his shoulder. Isaac scoffed. He could handle the cold just fine, ever since he was turned many years ago, the cold had never been a problem. Fire though, well the less thought about that, the better. "She's headed south to Italy. We could just skip all this and wait for her there. Simple."

"Not simple." Caleb sighed before stopping. "We have our orders and we follow our orders, don't we?" Caleb asked, tone challenging, threatening. Isaac shifted, wary, but he folded his arms across his chest, stubbornness filling his frame. "Seem like shitty orders to me…" Seeing the look on Caleb's face though he quickly added; "But orders are orders, yea?"

"That's right. Orders are orders." They started walking again. Caleb acting like nothing had happened and Isaac pretending he wasn't shooting wary glances at his mentor.

"The boss doesn't want her anywhere near the strongholds." Caleb said suddenly. Isaac stared at the back of the redhead's head. Caleb continued, either unaware of Isaac's stare or simply uncaring. Isaac suspected the latter.

"We are here to cut her off, before she can get to anyone who would support her claims. Before things get _messy_." Isaac couldn't help the sardonic grin that split his lips. They continued on in silence, following the subtle signs of their quarry's passing. Broken branches, scratched up trees, a deer carcass. The two followed these and her scent, lingering even days after her passing.

Eventually they came to the edge of a clearing and in it was a long and low building. Two things stopped them from skirting it; "Magic." Isaac said neutrally. They both could feel it, a subtle hum of power surrounded the building and in fact the clearing itself. Wards to protect and keep away unwanted guests perhaps? The second reason was even more pressing; the girl's scent was strong here. Not enough to indicate she was still around, but strong enough to tell she had spent more time here than anywhere else.

"What's the plan?" Isaac asked. Caleb shook his head and closed his eyes. Outstretching his arm, he held it in front of him and concentrated. Isaac watched and waited patiently, though his eyes darted about their surroundings. "They are strong but simple wards. Anti-muggle and animal, as far as I can tell." Caleb said after opening his eyes. "We can cross the threshold." Isaac nodded and stepped forward. A tingle washed over him as he entered the wards before quickly dissipating. "What's the play?" Isaac asked, his tone business like.

"This place is close to the reserve; it could be some sort of halfway house. Let's play it by ear." Isaac nodded and opened the door. Warmth greeted them inside, a large fireplace was off to the side of the room. The fire cast long shadows across the room. A few curious eyes turned toward the two as they entered, but it was momentary as they quickly lost interest. At the counter, a middle-aged balding man, with beefy arms and a stomach this side of portly, presumably the owner, greeted them warmly. "What can I get you weary travellers?" His voice while rough was friendly enough.

"Two rums please." Caleb said pleasantly. Isaac turned and looked around. A woman was going around the tables serving and collecting dishes. A perpetual smile on her face. Another woman – no a girl, Isaac corrected himself was helping the woman. It seemed this was a family establishment. He sneered and looked at the various patrons. None of them seemed interesting to him, they were all so plebeian.

"Your drinks." Isaac took his glass and took a sip. He hummed; this was some good drink.

"Business seems to be booming, do many people pass by here?" Caleb asked, his voice light and friendly.

"Well with the reserve so close by, zoologists and herbologists pass by often enough. We got rare specimens deep in the woods you know." Caleb hummed in agreement.

"Are those the only people that pass by then?" Caleb prodded. The bartender stopped wiping the glass and looked at Caleb lowly. "Lots of different types pass by. You and your friend, for example, aren't the usual sort, are ya?" Isaac tensed, his arm twitching. He covered it up by taking another sip of his drink. He noticed the girl was looking at him and he met her gaze. She blushed and looked away, looking quite coy. He smirked to himself.

"…my friend and I are looking for someone, she may have passed by these parts." the sound of scrapping metal drew the man's eyes. Gold coins glinted at him from the counter.

"Oh really? What did they look like?"

"A teen, about your daughter's age, dark hair, blue eyes, pretty."

"And what would you folks be wanting with her exactly?"

"Nothing nefarious," Caleb smiled pleasantly, keeping his voice light. "She ran from home and we were sent to retrieve her. A young girl out in these parts all alone; it's quite dangerous."

"That is true, it is dangerous out here." The man gave Caleb a significant look. Mulling things over the man finally shook his head. "Though I am sorry to say that nobody fitting that description has passed through here." The bartender then reached out to collect the galleons. Before he could put away the money a vice clamped onto his wrist. Caleb was still smiling, though it was now decidedly colder and not at all pleasant.

"Is there a problem mister?" the bartender asked trying to act nonchalant despite the fact that no matter how much he tried he couldn't free his hand. _How strong was this stranger?_ Feeling the futility of his actions, his other hand drifted to the underside of the counter, out of sight.

"Not a problem per say, it's just that I believe that you may have forgotten a detail or two, about the girl." Caleb drew closer to the man, bringing his mouth to his ear, "I can smell her all over you." He whispered low and amused. The bartender grunted as the pressure on his wrist increased. He could almost hear his bones cracking and grinding.

"Ulric, is there a problem?" The woman, his wife asked. She was standing a few feet from them, unable to see exactly what was happening between the two. Suddenly the room fell silent as everyone became aware of the tension between the two men. Some of the patrons shifted, getting ready to draw their weapons at the slightest provocation. Caleb turned to look at her. A lot of things happened all at once. Isaac gulped down his drink. Ulric let out an enraged cry but it was lost in the noise as a hot blast tore the counter apart, heading for Caleb's torso. Caleb broke Ulric's wrist and twisted to the side at the last second. The spell hit his side, grazing him. It still sent him spinning, tossing him off his feet. The wife fumbled for her wand; Isaac promptly threw his glass at her. Reflex saved her; an impromptu blast of power shattered the glass into so many pieces before it could nail her in the face. Bits of glass flew everywhere, almost blinding her. Spells, a myriad of colours sped towards him but Isaac was already gone. He blurred away, sending bodies flying as he barrelled past them. He reappeared in front of the door with the girl held tight in his arms.

"Nobody move!" The girl tried to struggle but something sharp and cool pressed against her pale neck and she stilled. Everybody stopped, wands held aloft and hands outstretched, incantations dying on their lips. Some patrons were halfway out of their seats, hands going for wands and other weapons. Some had taken cover under their tables and chairs. A movement at the corner of his eye had Isaac react, his hand twitched, moving so fast it was a blur. There was a sharp whistling sound and then a dull squelching thud. One man fell to the floor, clutching at his throat, crimson lifeblood spilling out around the knife blade. For a moment the only sound was of the man gurgling, desperately clinging on to life until finally with a rattling finality he stilled. "Anyone else feel like dying a hero's death today?" He tightened his grip on the girl and his now empty hand clutched her throat. The girl let out a terrified whimper. Isaac swept his gaze across the room and nobody was bold enough to meet his gaze. "Good, now put your weapons on the floor like good little dogs and show me your hands." Isaac looked at Ulric, the man had one of his hands tucked close to his body, while the other held a dark stone. Ulric looked at his wife; she was clenching her jaw, staring at their daughter and by extension Isaac. She was bleeding from her temple, painting the left side of her face red, but she refused to let that bother her. Her hand was clenching her wand, her knuckles white from her strong grip. Arcs of eldritch energy trailed her wand, eager and volatile. "Clarissa, do as he says," She turned to look at him, her nostrils flaring. "Ulric…!"

"No, do as he says. Everyone, do what he says. Please." He looked at everyone, pleading. Slowly everyone put their stuff on the floor.

"I fucking hate heroes." Caleb grunted and pulled himself out of the shattered table, getting up. His coat was shredded and full of splinters. Sneering in disgust, he discarded his ruined coat, throwing it away carelessly. He left a trail of blood as he moved. His side was bleeding, the pale flesh raw and torn viciously, but the bleeding was quickly slowing down. Blue eyes glowed menacingly as he stared at what remained of the counter. His gaze shifted to the man who had taken a chunk out of him. Ulric stared back remaining defiant, though his eyes kept darting to his daughter. The girl was petrified by fear. "All you had to do was tell us what you knew about the girl, that was it. Now things are about to get messy."

"I can't tell you what you want to know." Caleb smiled, teeth bared and bloody, looking vicious.

"We shall see." He struck like a snake, leaping over the counter and slamming into Ulric. His bloody hands grabbed the man's head tight and made him stare straight ahead. Ulric grunted in pain. Caleb's eyes bled black, becoming an abyss. "Tell me about the girl." His voice, in contrast to the absolute menace he was radiating, was soft and hypnotic almost ethereal. The man opened his mouth as if to say something and then screamed. Caleb hissed and let go. Ulric fell to the ground, his ears and eyes bleeding.

"Ulric!" "Papa!"

His wife rushed to his side and Caleb let her, shaking off the stabbing pain in his head. "What have you done to him you monster?"

"I didn't do anything. But I suspect the guest you harboured, did something…" He pulled down the man's tunic. There as he suspected was a blood red rune, glowing and sizzling against the man's chest. "I suspect she did it to all of you." He stood up and turned to his apprentice and gave him a quick nod. Isaac threw the girl to the floor and swiftly took out a blood red stone. His eyes turning dark, the stone glowed warm in his hand. Before anyone else could react, he turned to the occupants of the room and intoned, "_**Sleep."**_ A wave of energy and mist sprung up from his hand and quickly spread across the room. Soon everyone but the two vampires fell into an enchanted sleep.

"Secure the exits and then we extract the information." Isaac nodded his head and cast his gaze towards the girl on the floor. He ruthlessly clamped down on his darker urges, now was not the time. Work first and then play later, he admonished himself.

* * *

The mirror made her nervous, a feeling she was not at all accustomed to, especially from such an inanimate object. Feeling her gaze stray, she spun around lest she catch a glimpse and become entranced by what lay in its beguiling depths. Why Albus insisted on having such a detestable artefact in his office she would never know. Speaking of Albus, the door opened and the venerable headmaster walked in. His eyes found her form immediately and showed a distinct lack of surprise. A younger witch followed behind him, wearing pale blue robes, sensible boots and her hair pulled into a severe bun.

"…at ten you have a meeting with Mr Crouch about the proposed amendment to the new trade policy. You have lunch with Madame Bones, I reserved your usual table at the Snapping Dragon and then at three…." The girl stopped when she noticed Minerva standing in the office.

"That will be all Claire." Albus dismissed her giving her a genial smile. The young witch nodded and placed his schedule on his desk. A quick bow and she left leaving the two alone. Albus let out a heavy sigh and threw himself into his chair. Minerva looked at him amused.

"She nags me almost as much as you do."

"Well I wasn't going to hold your hand forever." Minerva answered, smirking at the sour look on her boss' face. She plucked a sweet from the bowl on the desk and popped it into her mouth. _Cherry, nice_, she hummed in appreciation. Albus glared at the bowl of sweets like it had offended him.

"I keep telling her that I only want lemon drops…"

"Nobody likes lemon drops though. Stop acting like a child."

"You have an uncanny ability to suck the fun out of things."

"And you pretend to be senile to amuse yourself."

"Why are you here instead of enjoying your holiday?" Albus asked, leaning back into his chair.

"We need to talk about the unicorn attacks." Minerva said seriously. Albus dropped his playful attitude and peered at her over his glasses.

"It's about time we informed the relevant authorities, don't you think?"

"You're concerned about how I am handling this?"

"I am, and I'm not the only one. Four unicorns dead Albus, and we are left floundering."

"And you think the Department of Creatures would have better luck?" Albus asked smoothly. Minerva shook her head. "Not necessarily, but we are running out of ideas…"

"I still have some…" Minerva ignored his comment and continued.

"Nothing is working. The fallout, if this goes public…"

"We will handle that, if it even comes to that."

"Our ability to protect the denizens of the wards would come into question, even the students."

"I know." Albus answered and Minerva noticed how tired he looked. "In any case, I have come to an agreement with the centaurs," Albus continued unaware of Minerva's internal thoughts. "We will be preparing a secure dwelling for the unicorns, fully warded and hidden. Something temporary, until the centaurs and nymphs can root out whatever manner of creature has befallen the forest." Minerva stayed quiet, mulling over his words and the merit of his plan. When the first report had come to her attention she had been appropriately concerned. Very few creatures could actually catch unicorns and the few that could relied not on speed but guile. That fact made the culprit, whatever it was, exceedingly dangerous. When Minerva had bothered to make a list of magical creatures and beings that could potentially catch a unicorn, two topped the list; goblins and wizards. Not a wonderful idea, all things considered. Still, Albus' plan had merit, centaurs were masters of the forests and between them and the wood nymphs, they had the highest chance of driving out whatever had taken root in their dwelling.

"Has your scrying brought anything else to light?" Minerva asked after a while. Albus grimaced and shook his head.

"I keep getting the same results, only a vague direction, centred on the school. My scrying has never been up to snuff." Minerva nodded in understanding. She herself was pants at scrying and divination in general. She never really bothered with the field.

"Perenelle has offered to try in conjunction with Sybil, perhaps they will get better results." Minerva nodded and barely managed to keep her expression neutral when he mentioned the Hogwarts divination professor. That woman was a charlatan. Minerva noticed how Albus' gaze had drifted to the mirror.

"Albus." She called out concerned. With the slightest hesitation the old wizard turned to her.

"Yes Minerva?" He asked, nonplussed, or at least he appeared to be. But Minerva had known him a long time and could see that those depths had some grip on him.

"Perhaps you should get rid of that mirror, or at least move it…" she hesitated, looking at his darkened eyes. "It does not do well to dwell on the past." Albus stared at her, his gaze piercing, but Minerva did not flinch. "Very well, my experiments with Nicholas have told us as much as we expected to get, I will soon find it a new home." Minerva nodded and stood intending to leave. Her hand reached for the door knob and she stopped. Turning around, she raised her wand and conjured a long piece of cloth, dark and opaque. With a gesture the cloth draped itself over the large full-length mirror. Satisfied she gave him one final nod and left, leaving him to his thoughts.

* * *

Kingsley blinked the after effects of the portkey away and took note of several things. There was a chill in the air and he could see his breath fogging over. A slight bit of concentration and his magic wrapped around him, chasing away the chill. He had been ported into a forest clearing and in the waning light he could make out figures against the white backdrop moving with purpose.

"Are you the other Englishman?" A gruff heavily accented voice asked. He turned and found grey eyes looking at him behind dark brows. Shacklebolt nodded.

"Auror Captain Shacklebolt, British Second Division." He held out a hand. "Nice to meet you." The man shook his hand, his grip firm. "Anton." He said and then gestured for Shacklebolt to follow. They trudged in the snow and headed towards the only building in the clearing. Shacklebolt caught a glimpse of other figures on the edges of the clearing, securing the perimeter.

"Anything you can tell me?"

"It is better you see yourself." Shacklebolt nodded not minding.

"Shack!" a voice called out from the porch of the building and a familiar face framed with golden hair smirked at him.

"Dawlish." Shacklebolt greeted stiffly at his compatriot. Dawlish rolled his eyes, his eyes twinkling in humour.

"Lighten up Shack, no need to help the snow with your frigid attitude." He ran a hand through his blond hair, sending snowflakes flying.

"This is no time for jokes." Anton said irritated, his eyes hard. Dawlish blinked in surprise before turning to Shacklebolt, a joke on his lips. Shacklebolt shook his head and Dawlish shrugged.

"I'm sorry about that, meant no disrespect. Humour is how I deal with high stress situations. I'll tone it down." Dawlish offered a charming smile. Anton stared at him for a brief moment before nodding. The large German then left them there, entering the building. Immediately Shacklebolt turned to his countryman, "What's the situation?"

"To put it simply, it's a shit show." Dawlish grimaced. "It's brutal, I hope you didn't have anything fancy for lunch." Shacklebolt pursed his lips, this didn't sound good.

"Come on." Dawlish led the way, opened the door and stepped inside, Shacklebolt followed.

The first thing to hit him was the smell. The sickly sweet of rotting flesh mixed with the sour of excrement. Then there was the blood; it covered the walls and painted the counter. As if a demented child had been given free rein to redecorate the room with bodily fluids. The bodies started just inside the door; a man, his face twisted into a rictus of pain, his stomach cut open and his organs missing. More of the same clawed at his eyes, men in various states of pain and death, some with entire limbs missing. Strangely arranged though were the bodies of the few women. Stripped naked and placed on the tables as if they were some macabre decoration. Their bodies were unmarked and if he did not know them to be dead, they would have almost passed for being asleep or unconscious. The sound of retching, thankfully, drew his attention elsewhere. A young man, skinny and blond was hunched over in a corner, spilling his guts out.

"That's what you get bringing in a civilian…" Dawlish muttered as he directed his friend toward the group of what was obviously Aurors near the counter. One of the figures, a woman with pale hair noticed him. She stepped forward to greet him.

"You are Captain Shacklebolt?" her accent adding a lilt to her English.

"Yes, and you are?"

"Schulz. Captain Schulz. I have heard much about you."

"Well I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Yes, though the circumstances could be better." She answered darkly.

"Quite; care to tell me what happened?" the two moved towards the counter. Shacklebolt saw a man, his eyes torn out and his chest cut up. He had not had a pleasant death.

"We believe the killer you have been pursuing has struck again," she gestured towards the women. Some of the Aurors were conjuring large sheets and covering up the bodies. "Though this level of brutality was never reported before." She frowned, her tone almost accusing.

"It is a first. Something must have changed. This," He gestured at the room in general. "Is not the work of a calm and precise killer. There is anger here, rage." Shacklebolt stared at one corpse, a girl in her teens, who seemed to be the centrepiece of this morbid art. He had a sneaking suspicion that her eyes were glassy long before she succumbed to death.

"Have you been able to get anything substantial?"

"They left very little traces of energy. Hopefully the samples our Physicians took will offer more insight."

Shacklebolt nodded. Schulz gestured toward the young man who seemed to have finally gotten a hold of himself.

"Are you ready for another try Fritz?"

"You people are sick. How can you stand this?" The German captain's whole demeanour changed, where she had been friendly but tense before, now she looked quite frightening. The woman glared at the boy and her presence seemed to swell, the lights flickered and heavy pressure bore down on the boy.

"Sick? Do you think this gives me pleasure, little boy?" Her voice was sickly sweet and cold. Fritz took a step back, eyes wide with fear. "We are all here, committed to catching the fiends who did such a heinous thing and you would dare besmirch our reputation?"

Fritz whimpered something out.

"Did you say something? Speak up!" she ordered.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Good, you are sorry. Now you will take that stone and connect to it once more. You should be honoured that you can help bring these creatures to justice." One of the other Aurors passed him a rough stone and he held it frightfully. Shaking, he stared at the captain. Feeling a moment of compassion Schulz stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on his slim shoulder.

She spoke low to him. "You can do this okay. Yes, it's hard but you have the strength to see it through. I trust that you can do it." Still looking hesitant but buoyed by the captain's words Fritz closed his eyes and concentrated on the stone.

"What is he doing?" whispered Shacklebolt shuffling closer to his counterpart. He stared as something seemed to happen to Fritz. He couldn't put it into words exactly but it was as if some part of the young man had left, his presence becoming muted.

"He is an empath – not particularly powerful, but he can connect to objects and view the events around them, if said events left a strong enough imprint."

"Psychometry." Shacklebolt said in understanding. He noticed that Fritz had started muttering, too low for the two of them to hear but another Auror was beside the empath taking notes. "How did he end up here? He doesn't have the disposition."

"He tricked a shop owner into giving away his goods. The courts had him do community service."

Shacklebolt nodded in understanding. He was about to ask something else when Fritz started screaming.

"No. No. NO. Not my Rosa!" Fritz dropped the stone and began clawing at his clothes, his nails drawing blood.

"Shit. Restrain him!" Schulz ordered. Before she finished speaking, several wands snapped forward and ropes wound around Fritz form. The young man toppled over, still crying and mumbling.

"Shh, shh. Fritz come back. You're okay…" Schulz leaned forward and cradled his head. Her hands glowed softly and she run them over his face and temple, imbuing him with calm energy. A few tense moments later Fritz's eyes cleared up and he stared up at her.

"Hey you're okay." Schulz soothed.

"I saw them. They were there – just there, dying, right in front of me and I couldn't do a thing. There was so much blood, so much pain."

Shacklebolt felt someone sidle up to him and found Dawlish looking pensive beside him. The two shared a knowing look before they turned back to the scene before them.

"What did you see Fritz? Tell me what did you see?"

"I saw them…" his voice cracked at the edges, before turning dark. "Monsters. I saw those two monsters."

Schulz looked up at Shacklebolt and he nodded grimly; this was progress.

* * *

**A/N: Phew that took a while, much longer than I expected to be honest. Life has the tendency to make plans go off road I think, so please excuse the delay. Plus, my muse kinda hated me for a while. I had the idea, I mean I have this whole story outlined (vaguely) but I would write and it would come out wrong. I deleted whole sections of the thing and rewrote it multiple times and took bits that fit and put them together and tried to make em seamless. I suppose that's enough of me making excuses.**

**If it wasn't clear from the start, then well you can tell I'm trying to expand the scope of the story. How much of the world it will encompass is still up in the air so let's hope I don't fudge that up. Someone please tell me what they think of Harry and Vernon's interaction, I don't want it coming across meh.**

**To Moon Pix in answer to your question about chapter 6 was it? Well Harry being a wizard has to go to Hogwarts at 11. So while he was ten and Dudley went off to school, he had a gap year of sorts, started a bunch of hobbies and stuff...that's my explanation hehehe**

**Anyway that's the chapter, hope you like it. Tell me what you think. Damn that's a long AN**

**Read. Enjoy. Review**


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter blah blah blah**

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**Edit: So I'm reposting this chapter and I hope that's not so strange. A couple of reviewers suggested I break down the huge blocks I had in here, as well as some dialogue edits. So I went back and tried to edit as much as I could, the paragraphs were pretty large I admit, and for some reason I never noticed. Still that's what reviews are for, to help some of us improve so Thank You for pointing that stuff out. When I have time I might go back and edit my earlier chapters in the same way. Again, thanks for the reviews and suggestions, they are appreciated. On with the story!**

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**TWO FACED**

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_If your gonna be two-faced, at least make one of them pretty._

_ \- Unknown_

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The great hall was a cacophony of noise as usual. Teens chattering and laughing while they enjoyed their supper. The atmosphere was warm and rowdy. At the Ravenclaw table the first years were busy having what one would call a spirited discussion.

"That's a load of dragon dung and you know it!" Terry pronounced loudly.

"You take that back, you heathen." Anthony hissed back just as hotly. "The Falcons are gonna win this year. They beat the Cannons just last week…"

"Everyone beats the Cannons, it's not that hard to do." Terry bit back. Anthony glared at his friend before he turned to Michael who was trying his best to quickly finish his meal.

"Corner back me up here…" Anthony nudged his friend in the side. Michael hissed and dropped his fork, spilling his food. Michael cursed under his breath.

"Why can't we have one meal without the two of you talking about Quidditch." Morag complained. The two boys turned to her genuinely surprised.

"Honestly what does it matter who wins the damn league this year, it's been a crappy year anyway."

"Now you listen here…" Anthony started but Hadrian tuned them out, sharing an amused glance with Padma who was chatting quietly with Su. He absentmindedly brought a pineapple wedge to his mouth, humming in delight as the tangy sweet flavour filled his mouth. Concentrating on the book in front of him, he continued to read…

…**_Transference sequence. Part of the Movement group of Runes. It in fact is closely related to the simple Move cluster and if often considered to be a simply modified form of the aforementioned. But while Move imparts and affects kinetic energy, Transference deals with moving magical energy and essence. Often used between two bound and linked clusters, Transference is what moves energy throughout the matrix. But it can also be used to move properties or the essence of one thing to another to a limited fashion…_**

Hadrian lightly traced the rune sequence on the pages of his notebook. This was not the first time he had encountered this particular sequence; it was actually a basic sequence that worked in conjunction with power clusters to provide the engine so to speak for most matrices. He was only reading up on it again because of an idea he was playing around with.

Glancing around the table to check if anyone was looking, he pulled out his wand and began carving the sequence into the table. He noticed Padma and Su glance at him, curious. He grinned at them and motioned for them to wait and see. Running a critical eye over the carving he gave a satisfied nod. He turned to his notebook and added a few more runes before he jabbed a subtly glowing finger at the cluster on the table. Su let out a gasp as the notebook's page turned stiff, then brown and woody.

"What in Merlin's…" Lisa who was sitting beside exclaimed, drawing the other first year's attention to Hadrian's experiment.

"Well that is interesting." An amused voice said behind Hadrian. He whirled around in surprise, removing his finger and letting the magic fade. There standing behind him was Perenelle Flamel, a soft smile brightening her face. Hadrian almost relaxed before he noticed that the attention of all of his friends was on him.

"Mrs Flamel, what are you doing here?" He almost cringed at how rude that sounded. The woman frowned.

"What have I told you?" Hadrian winced.

"What are you doing here, Perenelle?" The woman nodded, apparently satisfied.

"I am a guest of the school in case you forgot Hadrian."

"That's not what I meant," he frowned. "I meant here, right now."

"Oh that's quite easy, I had something for you. But considering how rude you are I'm having second thoughts." She said thoughtfully.

Hadrian flushed embarrassed. Before he could think of anything to say, he found a slim green book thrust under his nose. Taking it, he read the title; _**Let's Get Familiar**_. Hadrian looked up at the woman surprised.

"How…why?"

"Oh don't act so surprised, silly boy. Your professor mentioned it in passing and I thought that would help you. It was gathering dust in my library anyway."

"Thank you." Hadrian said gratefully. She merely waved him off. She glanced over his shoulder for a moment, an unreadable look on her face before she shrugged.

"Use it well and I won't complain." Perenelle said lightly. Hadrian nodded and she turned around to go, before she turned around once again.

"We should have tea again sometime and maybe you can show me some of your little projects." She said her eyes over his shoulder. "You can even bring some friends." She added, nodding to herself.

Before Hadrian could answer she was already gone. For a few moments there was silence amongst the group.

"You know Perenelle Flamel?" Morag asked in disbelief. A feeling that was mirrored by most of the faces on the table around him.

"Umm yes?" answered Hadrian unsure.

"Since when?" Morag pressed. Hadrian pursed his lips into a thin line, noticing how eagerly the others were waiting for his response. His eyes darted quickly to Anthony.

"Guys I don't think it matters that much." Padma said with forced casualness. She glanced at Hadrian, a whole conversation passing between them in that one moment.

"Oh c'mon Patil, you know it does." Terry interjected. "Unless it's some big secret, what with you being the Boy Who Lived and all that stuff…" Terry said lightly, a smirk gracing his face.

Hadrian ground his teeth. He hated being called that and all his dormmates knew that. Padma caught his eye and shook her head, _Don't take the bait,_ she was saying. Hadrian sighed in irritation.

"I met her that day I missed classes." He glanced nervously at Anthony.

"Oh," Mandy breathed out. "Isn't that the day you flung Tony across a room…" A collective groan went around the table. Nobody had ever accused Mandy of having any shred of tact.

"Yes." Hadrian sighed out.

"Well look at that, you must have the devil's luck…" Terry started.

"Terry!" Lisa and Morag rebuked him at the same time.

"What, we were all thinking it…" he stopped when Hadrian stood up, brows furrowed and books held tightly at his chest. Hadrian glared and for a moment the tension was so thick it was almost visible. Then Hadrian sighed, his tense frame slumping.

"You know what, forget it." Hadrian said, his sharp green eyes cutting at Terry who flinched. Hadrian turned to Padma and she gave him a simple nod.

"I'll find you later." She said simply. Hadrian nodded and left, leaving an awkward table behind him.

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**Muggles would have you believe that all Magi have familiars, riding at the back of our brooms as we cackle and curse little children. Well as you will certainly come to know or are already aware, muggles have no idea how things work. The word familiar is often bandied about, but true familiars are rare. They are not pets that are unusually intelligent, of which many a wizarding pet is quite clever. No, familiars are something more. A familiar is a magical animal that chooses to bind itself to a mage, a sacred and intimate bond. A wizard cannot initiate it, it is always done by the animal and often without the consent of the wizard.**

**But what does it mean, to have a familiar? It means gaining a lifelong companion whose loyalty is unquestionable. There is no deceit or subterfuge between master and familiar. Thoughts and emotions pass between the two as easily as breathing. In fact, some have theorized that a familiar bond is a joining of two souls, one entity within two bodies…**

The world had never looked clearer. Tiny motes of dust and pollen glinted under the harsh silver light of the moon. The walls looked almost pearlescent and the suits of armour gleamed and sparkled. The wind teased his – their feathers and with it came the sounds of the forests, crickets and bats, trees creaking and dancing in the breeze. All he – they needed to do was stretch their powerful wings and catch the wind and they would leave all this behind. They were of the air, free. His - their head twitched – something was scuttling down below, a rat. Talons tightened on the rafter and muscles tensed, _No! _She – they hissed in distaste; it was natural. _Not yet, please. _He – they pleaded; and she – they consented. A subtle pressure that had been present from the beginning was growing, they were not used to this. It was new, it was too much, it was overwhelming and so he opened his eyes and found himself back in his body.

Hadrian breathed deeply, for a moment his mind still lost, still thinking his hands were wings and his body covered in feathers. His ears could still hear the echoes of the forest though they were fading fast. He blinked as the world darkened and details faded, becoming muted and blurred. He looked up into the rafters and easily found glowing amber staring back at him. He reached out and marvelled at how much easier it was.

As he and Hedwig had grown their bond had strengthened and finding each other was easier, but this was different. She blazed to his senses, a beacon in the dark. Amused satisfaction echoed loudly in his mind. _Oh don't be so smug,_ he thought fondly. Hadrian was nothing if not curious, paired with a distinct recklessness and he often dived into things without deliberating on any consequences. It had not taken him long to crack open the book Perenelle had given him and what a treasure trove that had been. New ideas and half formed thoughts had clicked into place as he literary devoured the knowledge that lay within. In keeping with his nature Hadrian had decided to see if he could become one with his beautiful companion.

The description had been vague – "…_reach out to your familiar and dwell within_." It had taken some trial and error and no small number of headaches. Yet, tonight he had finally managed it. Yes, it had been brief and imperfect but it was progress and for tonight at least he was satisfied. Hedwig swooped down and perched on his raised knee. Without much thought, Hadrian stroked her feathers. "Might as well finish exploring; the night is still young after all." Hedwig merely barked in what he understood as exasperation. A single powerful stroke of her wings and she was off, Hadrian quickly followed.

Hadrian crept silently; his footsteps muffled by his thick socks. His new cloak was wrapped around him securely, rendering him unseen. He passed by a few portraits, the people in them thankfully deep into sleep, snoring. He turned into another hall, the long stretch a soft cold silver in the moonlight. He glanced up and saw Hedwig gliding silently up in the rafters, acting as scout. He didn't want Filch catching him, Aunt Minnie would skin him alive if she found out he was outside after curfew.

Thankfully his cloak was near transparent from the inside, allowing him to see unhindered. He glanced down at the paper in his hand, he had been jotting down a crude map since he left the Ravenclaw tower. He felt a mental nudge from Hedwig and he took a right turn and found himself at a dead end. Hedwig was perched atop a suit of armour, waiting for him.

"What is it Hedwig?" he whispered.

Hedwig hooted softly and looked pointedly at the wall in front of him. Hadrian frowned, a secret passage perhaps? Hedwig was much more sensitive to such things than him after all. But how to get it open then? Another nudge from Hedwig and he saw an image, a wand against the wall. He nodded to himself; a final glance assured him that they were alone. He pulled the cloak down, his front becoming visible. Pulling out his wand, he gently tapped it against the wall. For a moment nothing happened and then the wall shivered and winked out of existence, leaving a dark passage open. Hedwig was the first to enter and he followed quickly behind. A flick of his wand had it lit like a torch and he finally saw the passage.

The sides were smooth and for someone as small as Hadrian, it was quite comfortable but he imagined that two adults couldn't walk abreast without feeling crowded. Glancing behind him, he wasn't surprised to see the wall back in place. Quickly marking the spot on his map, he went deeper into the passage. He tried to guess where he would get out but gave up after a few more turns. All he knew was, from the slope of the passage, that he was going down. When he came to the end of the passage, he quickly extinguished his wand. Again, Hedwig was the first to get out and after she gave him the all clear, he followed, cloak wrapped around him. Immediately he knew where he was, the third floor. He had been on the fifth and in a few minutes was two floors down. He grinned; he was definitely going to use that shortcut again.

A flare of warning had him jerk back from the corner and press himself against the wall. His breath came quickly and he could hear his blood pounding in his ears. What was around the corner he wondered?

"Out for another midnight jaunt, I see." a lazy drawl said casually. Hadrian jumped; his eyes wide; that was Professor Snape's voice. Hadrian felt beads of perspiration gather on his brow. His heart was pounding and he could feel his muscles tightening up, ready to spring. Then he heard another voice.

"Whatever d-do you mean Severus?" Hadrian immediately placed professor Quirrell's voice.

"I've been watching you Quirinus." Snape said.

"Whatever for, I suppose I should be flattered…" there was the sound of swishing cloth and struggling. "Oof." Someone slammed into a wall. Hadrian crept closer, his steps cautious and peeked out of the corner. Professor Snape had Quirrell by the scruff of his neck, feet clear off the floor and pressing him against the wall. Quirrell looked frightened, going by his pale face and darting eyes. Snape was glaring daggers, his dark eyes hostile.

"I don't have time for games. So you will tell me what I want to know Quirinus." Quirrell made a choking sound and Hadrian realized that Snape was holding to the other man's neck quite tightly.

"You have no right…" Quirrell gasped out. "Whatever you're looking for – I know nothing…"

Hadrian surprised at the display must have made a sound because suddenly Snape's dark eyes were glaring at him. Hadrian almost shouted in surprise before he quickly realized that the professor's eyes were looking through him, scanning the hall. Still, Hadrian quickly and quietly retreated and ducked into an unfamiliar room. He stood still and silent, straining his ears, hoping to catch the sound of either the professors coming his way.

When he heard nothing for several minutes, he almost slumped to the floor in relief. Turning around, he finally took in the room he had stumbled into. It was an unused classroom; the desks had been pushed off to one side carelessly. At the far end though stood something tall covered with a dark sheet. Hadrian's curiosity had been piqued. With growing excitement, he pulled at the sheet and promptly frowned. It was a mirror – full length, with a beautiful wrought bronze frame and two clawed feet. It had an inscription at the top; _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. _Hadrian frowned at the words; it wasn't Latin or any of the other languages he was familiar with. Hedwig found a perch on top of it. Hadrian stepped in front of the mirror and was startled to not see his own reflection.

"Hoot." Hedwig sounded amused and Hadrian flushed; he still had his cloak on.

Grumbling under his breath about cheeky birds, Hadrian pulled off his cloak. He looked at the mirror and gasped; there he was, pale, hair messy and eyes bright even in the gloom. But he wasn't alone; a man, tall, broad and with messy hair smiled down at him, his hazel eyes crinkling in amusement. Beside the man was a woman; pale and beautiful, her eyes large and green and she had the most beautiful hair he had ever seen, a deep flickering red.

"Mom, dad."

They could be nobody else – he had stared at their pictures as a child, drinking in their features. But then as if conjured from smoke, other figures shimmered into view. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, and then other people – people he had only glimpsed in paintings. They had his hair and nose and his smile. Slowly he saw that they were standing upon a meadow and in the background rose buildings and he realized that he was looking at his ancestral home – rebuilt and vibrant. He stared at the image of his parents and him between them, the family they were meant to be. He stood there and drank them in, unmindful of the cold creeping up his feet or the cramp in his legs.

It was only when Hedwig landed on his shoulder that he turned. She looked at him, her eyes understanding and kind. "Hoot." He stared at her for a moment, before looking back at the mirror – the smiling faces greeted him, unchanged. "I have to go now," he said, his voice small. "But I'll be back. Tomorrow." The faces, his mother and father smiled and nodded. With one last glance he left the room and pulled his cloak around him.

* * *

"You look exhausted." Padma said, taking a break from her essay.

Hadrian leaned back in his chair and yawned. "I feel exhausted." He said looking bleary.

Padma frowned and clucked her tongue in disapproval.

"You went out with your cloak again last night, didn't you?" she accused. Hadrian shrugged, "Maybe."

"Hadrian!"

"What was I supposed to do? Leave it in my trunk and let it go to waste?" He groused.

"Yes." She said forcefully. "What if someone caught you, like Filch?"

"It's an invisibility cloak – nobody can see me." He explained patiently as if to a child.

"No they can't, but they can hear you…" she said somewhat testily.

Hadrian opened his mouth to answer but she didn't let him.

"…or smell you. Penelope was telling me that Filch's cat, Norris, smells students out and tells him. Did you think of that?" She peered at him, her eyes daring him to lie.

"Well no." he answered after a moment. "But I was perfectly fine, Hedwig was scouting. And no familiar of mine is going to lose to a no-good cat." He grinned and helped himself to a crisp from the bowl in between them. Padma pursed her lips – the boy had an answer for everything.

"So you didn't run into anyone?" Padma pressed and Hadrian froze mid bite and his expression contrite.

"I may have run into both Snape and Quirrell." Hadrian said, feigning casualness. "But they didn't see me," Hadrian was quick to add.

"They didn't sense you though, right? I did tell you about that right?" She asked worriedly.

"Yea you did and no they didn't."

Padma, when he had shown her his new cloak had been intrigued but she had cautioned him. _Some wizards are extra sensitive to magic and can sense you even if you're invisible, so Invisibility cloaks aren't full proof, _she had said. Case in point Padma herself could vaguely tell where he was, though she had to concentrate a lot.

"They were acting weird though, Snape almost bit Quirrell's head off though…" he commented, remembering the rather odd meeting he had witnessed.

"What?" Hermione asked dropping a heavy book down on the desk, startling the other two. Hadrian gave her a mild glare but she grinned impishly at him. "So what are we talking about?"

"Hadrian had a run in with Snape last night when he was out sneaking." Padma said snidely. Hadrian gave her a betrayed look.

"He didn't see me!" he defended himself.

"Should you be antagonizing professor Snape, Hadrian? You two don't exactly get along." Hermione added. Hadrian let out a disbelieving snort; Hermione was being quite kind – he and Snape more than didn't get along, they had an intense mutual dislike of each other.

"Where the heck is Neville?" he tried to change the subject. The girls gave him twin looks that just screamed unimpressed. "He said he had something to ask professor Sprout." Hermione supplied.  
"Oh that's nice…" he said not having anything else to add.

Padma rolled her eyes. "Stop stalling and tell us what happened."

Tell them he did, explaining his journey through the moonlit halls and his discovery of new shortcuts. Then he told them about his invisible encounter with the two professors and their subsequent altercation. He did hesitate to mention the mirror though and decided it wasn't all that important in the grand scheme of things. He ignored the knot of guilt in his chest and tried not to meet Padma's piercing stare.

"Was that all that happened?" Padma asked at length, staring at him. Hadrian took a chip from the bowl and tried to act nonchalant.

"Just about yea, as far as I can remember." He squashed the biting uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

"That is strange, isn't it? Do you imagine teachers have duels late at night in the corridors often?" Hermione wondered out loud, thinking.

"I wouldn't call it a duel." Hadrian said flatly.

"Do you think professor Snape is looking for something?" said Padma.

"Well it looked like Snape was following Quirrell – he does seem the sneaky sort." Hadrian added. Though in the back of his mind he did wonder just exactly who was the sort, Quirrell or Snape. Both of them gave him an uneasy feeling.

"What for though?" Hermione asked.

"Do you guys think it could do with what we saw in the woods?" Padma asked. The other two froze momentarily, lost in memory. Hadrian felt his leg twitch and grimaced.

"How though?" Hadrian glanced out across the aisle to the window where he could just see dark trees rising up.

"I-I don't know…but I don't think everything that happened this year is a coincidence." Padma said slowly, gauging their reaction. Hadrian and Hermione shared a look and gestured for her to go on.

Emboldened, Padma rattled off her fingers, counting; "First, the troll; how often does that happen, something that dangerous being on the loose in a castle full of kids?"

Hermione's face tightened and she looked away, her complexion slightly green.

"Then, there was the whole unicorn thing. Unicorns are really hard to catch, really hard. And now this, two professors acting suspiciously." Padma finished with a helpless shrug. Hermione was biting her lip, thinking.

"Maybe, maybe you have a point. But this could also just have happened and be a bizarre coincidence…." Hadrian started but was interrupted by Hermione.

"I don't think it's some coincidence. It's not completely random, they all have something in common." Hermione looked right at him, eyes bright and serious. It took only a few moments for Hadrian to work out what she was implying before he scowled.

"No." he said flatly.

"Hermione might have a point…" Padma added, her eyes solemn.

"Well I disagree." Hadrian folded his arms across his chest. "Just because I was always at the wrong place at the right time…"

"Or the right place." Hermione added helpfully but Hadrian chose to ignore her.

"…it doesn't mean it's all connected." He finished firmly. The two girls looked unconvinced but didn't push him any further.

The three then lapsed into silence, working on their assignments. Hadrian was writing on auto pilot, his mind distracted by the notion Padma had brought. He may have dismissed it but that was more to do with how uncomfortable it made him feel, rather than some flaw on Padma's reasoning. He could admit, at least to himself that he had thought about their adventures. How did a bunch of first years do all that, see all that, he had wondered? But what Padma suggested implied that someone was pulling the strings and the mere idea of it scared him.

"Do you think Mr. Flamel will show us his Stone during his lecture?" Hermione asked suddenly, breaking them out of their musing.

"What?" Hadrian asked intelligently, blinking owlishly.

"The Philosopher's Stone." Hermione said with a bit excitement.

"You mean the fabled holy grail of alchemy that supposedly grants eternal youth and can turn metals to gold?" Hadrian asked sceptically and blinked in surprise when Hermione nodded excitedly.

"I didn't know he had one." Hadrian confessed.

"I thought you met him; how could you not know." Padma asked askance.

"Well we didn't get to chatting about his work. It was a brief meeting – something I'm thankful for to be honest. He had this thing about him…" Hadrian shuddered as he remembered that heavy oppressive feeling he had gotten near the old Alchemist. "His wife is nice though." He added as an afterthought, smiling slightly.

"Well it's the whole reason he's so famous. He is the only Alchemist to ever succeed in making one." Padma said with slight admiration.

"The stone makes him functionally immortal. Imagine being over six hundred years old!" Hermione said excitedly. "All the things he must know, the things he must have seen…." Hermione continued to babble on but Padma was thinking, the gears in her mind working, until; "The Stone!"

"What about it?" Hadrian asked casually, he quickly motioned to Hermione, shushing her. Hermione huffed, feeling quite put off about the interruption.

"It's said that the Elixir of Life is a powerful substance, capable of great healing. I once read an article in a medical journal by Healer E. Wright, and he theorised that the incredible healing powers of the stone effectively returned the body back to peak condition, reversing damage and deterioration and that was the source of the immortality. It's one of the few pieces ever written about the Stone actually."

"Okay," Hadrian answered somewhat bemused. "What are you getting at?"

Padma rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Remember what Firenze said?" Padma asked leadingly.

"Hard to forget, to be honest." Hermione grumbled and Hadrian nodded in agreement. Padma looked somewhat agitated, her arms twitching with repressed excitement.

"Firenze said that unicorn blood can save you even if you were an inch from death."

"Yea, but you would be cursed though." Hermione reminded, a frown on her brow.

"Unless…" Padma's voice dropped and she leaned forward, prompting the other two to do the same.

"Unless there was something more powerful that could reverse all that and restore you to full health."

"The Stone." Hermione breathed, sharing a look of realization with Hadrian.

"But who? Snape or Quirrell?" Padma asked. Hadrian had a thoughtful look on his face. He tapped the desk, humming.

"I don't know about Quirrell but I could see Snape doing it…" Hadrian said grumpily.

"Just because you don't like him doesn't mean you should make him prime suspect." Hermione admonished.

"I don't see that stopping him." Hadrian said his tone sour. Hermione shook her head at him, looking at him in disapproval.

"Okay maybe he's jealous or something. Isn't alchemy better than potions?" Hadrian hazarded.

"So what? You think it's professional jealousy." Padma asked in a disbelieving tone. Hadrian shrugged, he was just throwing the idea out in the open.

"I don't know guys, it seems like a stretch. We don't know if Snape and Flamel have any history and even then, why would Snape be working with that thing in the forest?" Hermione asked and the other two had no answer for her.

Hadrian grumbled under his breath and reached into the bowl for some crisps. He sighed when he found it empty. He gave the two girls an irritated look; they hadn't exactly helped him when he had smuggled the snacks into the library under his cloak. But they had no qualms finishing his food.

"Okay, who finished my crisps?" Padma and Hermione shared an amused glance before bursting into giggles.

* * *

"My patience is fast running out…" the voice hissed, sending shivers of terror down his spine.

"Please master, the protections are difficult and delicate…." He began but stopped abruptly as an angry hiss filled the air.

"Excuses. Fool, have I not shown you magicks beyond mortal reckoning and yet here you are telling me of simple weaves?" The man shuddered and his legs crumpled, a wave of pain wracking his body. He bit his lip drowning out his screams into pained grunts. The pain stopped but he continued to lay there, panting and shaking.

"Get up you fool." The voice commanded. Reeling from the pain, the man nevertheless pulled his body up until he was kneeling, noticing a curious moisture on his chin. His fingers dabbed at the raw skin of his chin and came away wet, blood.

"Perhaps it is an overestimation of your abilities to believe that you can deal with the wards in any timely fashion." The voice snarked, tone dripping with disdain.

"Master if you could just…" the man began but let out a shout of pain.

"I must? I must? I will not have you ruin my plans, months of careful planning and infinite patience. Now when I am so close. No, you will be silent and let me think…" the voice trailed off and the man waited. He could feel his master deep in thought, the dark presence at the edge of his mind. So he waited patiently.

"We shall need a distraction, to keep those two fools away for a time. Listen well, I shall not repeat myself…" The voice began and he listened intently.

"Master, what of the woman?" He asked hesitant.

"Hmm, she will be needed. I would not put it past the old alchemist to have a failsafe only he and his wife could bypass." The voice mused, tone conveying grudging respect.

"Use the boy," the voice said decisively. "She is fond of him; we use that against her when all else fails."

"Very well master. It will take time to set this all up but…" he began but the voice cut him off.

"I am aware. Just follow my instructions and we shall succeed. Now go, I need to recover my strength." He felt his master's presence retreat completely before he stood from his position of supplication.

Quickly he fixed his appearance, smoothing out his robes and running a light touch over his lip, healing it. With one last look at himself, he quickly left the room, leaving no evidence of his being there. Taking the stairs quickly he met the stewardess of the establishment. She looked up at him, a smile crossing her rosy face.

"Mr…" She started to say but he was quicker. His arm snapped up, wand in hand and wove a complex pattern across her eyes.

"_**Obliviate**__."_ A flash of white and the woman's eyes turned glassy and unfocused.

"_**Confundus**__."_ His wand let out a gentle blue glow, enveloping her head, "_I was never here_," he whispered the thought into her mind. "_The room was booked by a lady, pale eyed and petite, she never showed up_…"

"The lady never came…" She mumbled dreamily.

He nodded satisfied; the modification had taken. Slouching slightly and drawing his shoulders close, he adopted his persona, seemingly meek. With a final glance at the woman he left the establishment and joined the throng of people going about their day in the packed streets.

* * *

Hadrian blinked, trying to keep his eyes open. Professor McGonagall was speaking but he could barely hear her, his mind felt cottony and everything was muffled. Something grasped his arm and shook him. The jolt kicked his mind into gear and his head snapped to the left. Padma was looking at him, her brow furrowed and eyes dark and questioning.

"You're not okay." It wasn't a question. He blinked, her face swimming before she resolved into focus. He opened his mouth. Padma looked at him in consternation. He closed his mouth with a click.

"You're a mess, I can feel it. You're all over the place."

She was right; his skin was pale, not his healthy milk like complexion but an unhealthy pallor, his eyes were drooping and framed in dark shadows. Hadrian quickly pulled his arm from her grasp, turning away from her. Padma tried to keep the hurt from her face, she didn't quite succeed. The air between them turned sour and awkward. Padma could feel his agitation clear as day, and guilt, there was a lot of that.

"Sorry." Hadrian admitted. "I just haven't been getting enough sleep…" he trailed off uncertain.

"Is it your nightmares again?" she asked quietly. She discreetly glanced behind her at Morag, hoping the other girl wasn't eavesdropping. Ever since the incident with Anthony, there had been a distinct distance between the boys and Hadrian was loathe to talk about it. Hadrian shifted, a grimace blooming on his face.

"I suppose you could say that." There was something in the way he said it that convinced Padma that there was a lot she was missing.

"Hadrian," she reached for his hand and this time he didn't pull away.

Concentrating, she pulled up happy thoughts and resolve. In her mind's eye she could see it, a bundle of warmth and light, pulsing and bubbly. Slowly and with care she fed it through the thread between them and pushed it into him. A tingle run up her spine, going all the way down to their joined hands. Hadrian let out a surprised but pleased sigh, the tension in his shoulders eased and for a moment his skin gained a healthy hue before dissipating.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Since when could you do that?"

She shrugged, massaging his hand, "Always I think, it just takes practice."

"Neat trick. Thanks."

"You're welcome," she offered him a half smile. "It's easier with you though." She said thoughtfully, thinking out loud. Then her face became serious once more. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything, if…" She stopped when he squeezed her hand.

"I know."

He looked away for a moment, his thoughts casting down to the abandoned classroom on the third floor. Even now he could feel that subtle desire, the insidious pull of those smoky depths. He had been visiting the mirror, every night for the past week, leaving only before dawn, afraid of discovery. All his fatigue and confusion would instantly fall away once he stared at the visions within. It was so beautiful, so enchanting, bewitching.

"I know I can." He found himself repeating, "And I will, soon."

Padma felt his spike of guilt, he was lying, but she decided not to push.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Patil, care to share your enthralling discussion with the class?" Professor McGonagall stared down at them, her nostrils flaring in displeasure.

"Um no?" Hadrian asked and immediately regretted it. McGonagall's presence seemed to swell for moment, filling the room with an ominous feeling. Hadrian felt his heart speed up, leaping into his throat, his stomach tied itself into knots and his skin broke into a sweat. And then when he felt like he couldn't breathe, everything went back to normal. He blinked in disbelief; the room wasn't dark or constricting and his professor was standing in front of the class, not a hair out of place. He glanced at Padma, her skin was a shade less and slick with sweat, her fingers were trembling slightly. Glancing around the room though and he noticed a curious thing, nobody else was affected, everyone was fine, except the two of them.

"Now as I was saying," McGonagall continued unperturbed by the fright she had given the two. "We have so far concentrated on changing the material of one object into another distinct material. Wood to metal, metal to wood. Organic to non-organic and vice versa. But now it is time to do something different. Shape."

She strode around to her desk and took out a lump of metal about twice the size of her fist. It was barely an oval and was quite bumpy. She took out her wand and gave a flourish, the lump of metal bubbled and melted, turning into a thick grey liquid. She twirled her wand, going up and the metal followed her, spiralling and resolving into a double helix, gleaming and silver.

"As you can see, it is still metal, but its form has changed. Its dimensions, volume, those are the things you must concentrate on." She waved her wand again and from a cabinet in the back flew lumps of metal, floating and coming to rest in front of each student.

"Now I want you to visualize a shape in your mind, nothing complex mind you, keep it simple, then hold onto it, imprint that shape within your magic and then coax your material into whatever you imagine."

She smiled pleased as her students started to close their eyes, trying to picture something. Moving around, she helped where she could; a suggestion here, another demonstration there. But really, she did not have to say much, this was a class of Ravenclaws, they picked up things quite quickly. Talking about being quick on the uptake, she moved to her two best Ravenclaws. Not that she would ever tell Hadrian that, the boy didn't need to get a big head.

Predictably Hadrian and Padma were talking, they often were and it irritated her to no end, but the two were consistently the best in the class. Hadrian more so than Patil. Hadrian seemed to be ignoring his own lump of metal and was gesturing for Padma to go first. The young Indian witch nodded and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

Minerva felt a wave of forced calm wash over her originating from the girl. She noticed a few students, closer to the two, relax visibly, shoulders shrugging off tension. Interesting, Minerva thought and watched the young witch practice. Patil waved her wand and taped her lump of metal. Like a conductor, the girl directed the metal with her wand, teasing it into shape. Metal flowed, expanding into a frame, an open cube, at its centre held in place by eight diagonal arms was a sphere. The sphere was not solid, instead it had delicate paths seemingly carved out of its surface. The whole thing looked rough of course, as if done by an amateur sculptor, the edges rough and uneven. It had none of the sheen of polished metal. Yet it was the most complex transfiguration Minerva had seen any of the first years do.

"Beat that." Padma grinned.

Hadrian looked impressed before trying for a smirk that came out more as a grimace. Minerva frowned, finally taking a closer look at her pseudo-nephew. He was paler than usual and had dark circles over his eyes. Was he not getting enough sleep? Perhaps his nightmares had intensified. Perhaps she needed to ask Poppy to prescribe him some Dreamless Sleep potion…

Padma gasped and Minerva turned to look at what Hadrian had managed. She almost took a step back when she saw what he had wrought. It was a frame, barely a foot tall. Smooth and with an intricate top, it had vines running down its sides in delicate curves and its feet were clawed. It was beautifully made and with great attention to detail.

"Dammit! You didn't have to show off." Padma said good naturedly, not noticing that Hadrian was staring at his creation, conflicted.

Minerva was just as conflicted, she knew that frame, knew what it held between its arms. She had warned Albus, but of course he did not listen. This explained so much about Hadrian's appearance. She turned around, her face devoid of her inner conflict and continued to make her rounds. Still her mind was working overtime; she was going to destroy that damned thing and curse both Albus and Nicolas.

* * *

Padma enjoyed astronomy class. The class was often held at night on the highest tower of the school, open to the night sky. They would set up their telescopes all around and bring the distant stars so close that Padma felt she could reach out and pluck them from the sky.

The tower was especially warded, and was kept at a nice cool temperature no matter the time of year. A great thing too, considering how harsh the Scottish winters could get. Professor Sinastra was passionate about her chosen subject and would often hold her class enthralled. It also helped that the professor was young and beautiful, Padma thought with some amusement as she saw Terry paying rapt attention to the professor, except he was barely listening and simply following her movement.

Padma heard a giggle beside her and smiled down at Su, her partner for the night. The smaller girl was shaking her head, amused – Terry had almost tripped over himself when Professor Sinastra had smiled in his vague direction. Padma laughed quietly and looked around for Hadrian. She looked towards Michael and frowned. Hadrian had been paired with Michael but he wasn't there. With a quick mutter to Su, Padma shuffled quietly and sidled up to Michael.

"Where's Hadrian?" She asked quietly, Professor Sinastra was quite particular about being interrupted.

Michael barely flinched when she suddenly stood beside him. Instead he inclined his head and spoke in equally low tones. "He said he had to go to the bathroom."

"Oh." Padma flushed, feeling embarrassed, for some reason.

"He was acting weird though. Agitated. Anxious." Michael added. The two quickly ducked when Sinastra looked their way; pretending to look through the telescopes. Padma absently noticed that she was using Hadrian's.

"When did he leave?" Padma asked when the professor's attention drifted from them.

"A minute before you came to interrogate me actually."

"I'm not interrogating you." Padma said offended.

"Sure." Michael's tone was so dry it left no doubt to how he felt about it all.

"Whatever." Padma said and quickly looked at the Professor. Her back was turned and Padma quickly waved at Su who nodded. Padma quickly and quietly slipped away.

The halls were empty – it was after curfew after all. She had no idea where Hadrian had gone, but she knew that it was definitely not the bathroom. Hadrian had been coming to class every morning looking exhausted, as if he had barely slept. It was barely noticeable at first but eventually it had started affecting his classroom performance.

Professor Avery, Head of Gryffindor and History and Culture professor had almost re-enacted the first bloody goblin rebellion on Hadrian when he had fallen asleep in her class and had the audacity to snore. Padma had thought it was his nightmares, acting up again. So she had cornered Michael the other day. The other boy had been recalcitrant but had eventually admitted that Hadrian was often missing from his bed late at night.

That had ruled out nightmares, Hadrian couldn't get them if he was barely sleeping. Which begged the question, what was it? It couldn't be his ongoing attempts to map the castle. She along with Hermione had convinced him to only do it during the day and Padma often went along with him, enjoying the chance to explore. Something was happening and Hadrian was hiding it from her and she knew that whatever it was, was bad for him.

Focusing for a moment, she extended her senses. The large jumbled mass of emotions above her was her class. Pushing outward she felt a muted presence, not as coherent, it was an animal she supposed. _Probably Mrs Norris,_ Padma thought frustrated.

Hadrian shouldn't have gotten far from her range if he was sneaking about. She knew his feel, the specific flavour of his emotion. The only explanation would be if he was under his cloak. She stopped and groaned, of course he was under it. Had this been a few weeks ago, Padma would have been confident about her ability to find him. When he had first gotten the cloak, she had been able to sense him, vaguely but enough to accurately guess his position within a three-foot radius. That had changed though, despite Padma getting better at sensing in general, the more he used the cloak, the less she could sense, his presence becoming quieter until a week ago when she had felt nothing and he had disappeared from her perception.

She had never heard of a cloak that could adapt. She stood in the hallway, frustrated and not knowing where to go. She was just about to go back to the class when she felt a gentle nudge against her mind. _Friend_. Padma looked up and saw Hedwig perched in the rafters. Padma opened her mouth to say something, but the bird quickly flew off, landing at the end of the corridor. The bird stared at her, waiting. Padma got the message and quickly followed.

Hedwig quickly led her through the castle, taking shortcuts Padma was familiar with and some that were new. With Hedwig as both guide and scout, Padma didn't meet anyone in the darkened corridors. It was only when Hedwig glided into an open door that Padma hesitated. She could finally feel Hadrian, yet his presence felt strange. Steeling herself, she slipped into the abandoned classroom. She quickly took in the piled-up chairs and desks and then her eyes found her target.

She moved quickly to his side; "Hadrian!" She hissed and grabbed his shoulder. Immediately she recoiled, a strangled gasp escaping her.

She stumbled back from him, shaking. Hadrian startled, turned and looked at her eyes wide and bright but unfocused.

"Padma? What-when… What are you doing here?"

Padma shook her head, her eyes shut tight. _What was that?_ Her mind was reeling. The moment she had touched him, she had felt him clearly. His very soul bared to her, not the muted sensation she had felt as she had approached. _Sad, desperate, longing, contentment._ It had all rushed in, a flux she had become accustomed to, a cacophony she had come to expect and welcome. Yet it had been wrong, the emotions were there and his but beneath them was something, something pervasive, insidious. Her eyes snapped open and she glared at the dark mirror.

"What is _that_?" she practically spat, making no attempt to hide the contempt in her voice. Hadrian, though, did not seem to hear her disdain.

His eyes gleamed in the darkened room, green eyes frantic with energy and he smiled – the weary lines of his face smoothing.

"It's weird, but brilliant," he tugged her forward. Padma was reluctant, but Hadrian was insistent and surprisingly strong.

"Look. My parents, they are _here_. My family." Hadrian smiled at her, urging her – and so Padma looked.

She saw herself reflected there; her dark eyes bright against the caramel of her skin and her messy braid hanging loose over her shoulder. Her image was clear before a backdrop of darkness.

The dark depths of the mirror were like a veil, a twisting shapeless smoke and then it coalesced – a silhouette, gaining substance and shape. It pulled itself from the depths and came to stand beside her mirror self. Colour and light bled into the silhouette, breathing life into shape, forming a facsimile close to her heart.

"Mother."

The words stole from her lips and without any conscious thought, Padma took a step forward. Her hand rose up, splayed and reached out to touch, to feel. Cool mirror greeted her hand and Padma felt her heart lurch. Her mother's eyes lit up, her smile warm and pure. Her mother raised her arm and wrapped it around Padma's mirror self. Padma spun around, searching, desperate to feel the ghost of that loving touch – yet found nothing. It was just her and Hadrian in that room.

"Mother?" Hadrian asked confused. He stood beside her and looked into the mirror. His lips pulled into a longing smile.

"My family. They're here."

Padma didn't hear him. Her attention was locked onto the depths of the mirror, her hand raised to its opposite shoulder, trying to feel what her mirror self was experiencing. She felt it then, a deep well of desire bubbling up within her – urging her, telling her, she wanted to stay here, to be with her mother. But that wasn't right, her mother wasn't here, she was lost to this world. _No, there she is. Stay with her. _She heard a voice whisper in her ear, unfamiliar yet sounding like her own. _This isn't right, _a part of her urged, batting aside the other voice to be heard. Padma clenched her hands, indecision warring within her.

"Alas I see you have found the bittersweet joys of the Mirror of Erised." A kindly voice said from behind the two.

As if from a great wind Padma found her mind clear, the fog chased away. She grabbed Hadrian, pulling him away, much to his dismay. Bright blue eyes stared at them, their depths sad and understanding.

"Headmaster!" Hadrian exclaimed, coming to himself. His surprise quickly gave way to nervousness.

"I see you brought a friend today Hadrian." Padma flinched and looked down feeling trepidation well up inside her.

"You knew?" Hadrian sounded shocked and Padma looked between her friend and the old wizard.

"You knew I was coming here…? How?" Hadrian asked.

"My boy, I wouldn't be much of a headmaster if I didn't know where the dangerous artefacts were kept in my school now would I?" Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

"Dangerous?" Padma echoed and suddenly the headmaster's gaze was on her. Her breath hitched involuntarily; such was the weight of that gaze. Nervous and intimidated her control on her powers slipped.

Her necklace warmed against her neck, shunting her power, but a tendril did reach out to the venerable headmaster. Padma blinked, shocked. She could feel his mind but she could gleam nothing from it, not even a single flash of emotion. It was like staring at a void. The experience jarred her enough that she quickly pulled her perception back. She stared at him, surprise plain on her face.

"Dangerous how?" Hadrian pressed. "The mirror, it showed me my parents…" he trailed off uncertain and he glanced at Padma.

"I saw my mother," Padma said quietly. Hadrian was looking at her differently, his face contemplative.

Hadrian turned to the headmaster, "It-it shows us our family?" Hadrian asked unsure.

Dumbledore's face was kind and his eyes soft. "I suppose you would see that." Dumbledore walked forward, looking at the mirror – no, Padma realized, he wasn't looking into the mirror, but above it, at the inscription.

"The happiest man in the world would look into this mirror and see himself, as he is." Dumbledore said finally. Padma traced the strange words atop the mirror, turning them over in her mind.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire." Padma breathed out, realizing finally what the mirror did.

"It shows us what we want," Hadrian said catching on quickly. "Our desires."

"Yes." Dumbledore answered.

"It felt wrong though…" Padma started to say but faltered when the headmaster's eyes pinned her with an intense look. She felt a momentary flicker of something from him, sharp and poignant in the void that was his emotional being. It felt like surprise; and then it was gone, quickly as if it had not existed at all.

"The mirror shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. Yet, it gives us neither knowledge nor truth; greater men have stood as you did, wasting away, twisted and driven mad unable to tell reality from illusion, truth from deception."

Padma shivered, a sudden chill running down her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, whether it was to ward off the cold or something else, she did not know.

"The mirror will be moved tomorrow, you must not seek it out again Hadrian, Miss Patil." The weight of his gaze bore down on the two children and they nodded.

"Yes, headmaster."

"Good," Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "The two of you should return to your class before Professor Sinastra misses you."

At the door Hadrian lingered and Padma felt the conflict within him and reached out, taking his hand into hers. She gave it a gentle squeeze and smiled at him. He nodded, his emotions settling. Instead of leaving, as Padma expected, Hadrian turned to the headmaster.

"Sir, may I ask you a question?"

"You may ask any question and I shall try to answer."

"What do you see? In the mirror I mean." Dumbledore stilled and Padma held her breath.

A stab of pain and regret flashed so swiftly and powerfully across her senses that Padma almost stumbled. She tightened her grip on Hadrian to steady herself. Dumbledore smiled and the moment passed leaving her reeling.

"I see myself holding a pair of large woolly socks." Dumbledore said a beatific smile on his face.

"Oh." Hadrian had nothing else to say and feeling quite embarrassed he pulled Padma along and the two quickly left to join their class.

The trip back was undertaken in silence, each lost in their thoughts.

* * *

"Well, it's like I said, officer. Ol' Nel just up and disappeared a couple o' days ago. Left all his stuff – and that's nothin' like Nel, no sirree. Man's all sorts of paranoid, barely lets anyone share his spot. But suppose that's normal, I reckon, when you have as little as we do…"

The man continued talking, clutching his dirty bag to his chest. His face was dirty and smudged but his eyes were bright, darting about. The two officers next to the man seemed uncomfortable, though the older of the two tried his best to keep a stoic if slightly stiff face. The other, younger, one had no problem showing his discomfort, his nose scrunched in distaste. Still the man continued to dutifully take notes.

"Why are we even here? This is muggle jurisdiction." Recent Auror Academy graduate Nymphadora Tonks asked feeling peeved. Her gaze left the scene in front of her and panned up at the sky. Grey clouds looked heavy and fit to bursting.

"You can ask the captain when we get back." Her partner groused, her eyes though never left the scene, hands busy taking notes and committing everything else to memory.

"He just wanted us out of the way…" Tonks blew a strand of bright pink hair from her face.

"Well can you blame him? You did make a mess of things." The other girl said archingly.

"Oh really? I didn't see you disagreeing with me at the time Hestia." Tonks said testily.

"We all make mistakes, and that was probably my biggest one." Hestia sighed dramatically.

"Oh bite me!" Tonks snapped but there was no real heat to her words.

"No thanks, I have no idea where your diseased ass has been." She smirked when she noticed Tonks' hair flash a brilliant red for a minute before fading back to pink. Tonks huffed and pulled her robes tighter around her, beating back the sudden chill. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"When are we wrapping this up, I don't want to get soaked." She asked impatiently.

"Our robes are waterproof…" Hestia pointed out. Tonks scoffed and muttered something uncomplimentary under her breath. Hestia ignored her with ease, an old hand at her friend's various moods.

"Captain said to stake out the area and follow up on the lead. We can't go back without something."

"Sure we can. What was it that Bones said, 'It's not all glamour blah blah blah, paperwork' or something?" Tonks grinned but Hestia remained unimpressed.

Hestia's biting retort died in her throat when she spotted a familiar face. There by the alley was a young man peering at the scene with obvious curiosity.

"Recognize him?" Hestia nudged her partner. Tonks perked up, like a dog that had spotted a particularly interesting squirrel. Her eyes quickly spotted the suspect and her mouth twisted into a gleeful expression.

"That's Sammy Edmore, squib – been charged with possession and unlawful distribution a couple of times, among other things."

"I'm genuinely surprised that you know all that." Hestia grinned unrepentantly at Tonks. The other girl simply scowled but said nothing else. Hestia closed her notebook with a snap and turned to her partner.  
"Okay I think I have a plan, we…" she stopped when she realized that Tonks had left, leaving the relative safety of their illusioned spot.

"Damn that idiot." She said exasperated.

Tonks crept up on Edmore, her form disillusioned to mimic her surroundings, her steps silent and her aura as quiet and wound tight around herself as she could make it, effectively rendering her invisible to that sixth sense all magicals had. Letting her disillusionment charm fall away, she tapped his shoulder.

"So Eddie…" Several things happened quickly; Edmore spun round, eyes wide with surprise and then panic when he recognized her uniform. Before she could say anything else, Edmore went low and swept her legs out. Tonks fell down hard onto the concrete.

"Son of a bitch!" she cursed quickly scrambling up.

She saw Eddie metres down the alley, running like a nest of acromantula was on his heels. Thunder boomed and the sky opened up. Ignoring the rain, the young Auror gave chase. She burst out onto a busy street that ran along the river. There, leaning against the railing was Edmore, chucking things into the river.

"You! Stop!"

Edmore looked back to see her bearing down towards him. Acting quickly, he pulled off his jacket and threw the whole thing away and then darted down the streets. Tonks barely paid any mind to the jacket drifting down river and continued to give chase. She spotted him take a turn and she followed. Her boots slid across the slopping wet pavement and she slammed against the wall.

Letting out a curse, she frantically looked around for her quarry, ignoring the rain in her eyes. There! He was a fast bugger she thought with grudging respect. He was weaving amongst the pedestrians with ease, dodging this way and that, quickly getting away. Well she wasn't going to have that. Quickly pushing herself up, she tore after him.

"Outta the way! Police. Outta the way!"

She pushed and shoved, not sparing a glance to the glares and shouts, but she wasn't making as much progress as she would have liked. Despite the rain, the street was still full of people. _"The bugger probably knew it too when he turned into this street."_

Fed up she raised her arm up, there was a thunderous crack, like a gunshot. People screamed and ducked, quickly finding nooks and crannies off the street. Startled, her quarry turned around to look at her, eyes wide. She gave him a smug grin and flung herself forward. She was faster than him, she knew it and so did he. He ducked into an alley, but she wasn't far behind him.

She slid to a stop in the darkened alley, her eyes quickly adjusting. He had disappeared. How? She heard a rattle above her and looked up. He was hanging up a window fifteen feet up. He grunted and vaulted up, fingers clinging to the rim of the roof.

A quick glance and she saw a dumpster pressed against the building. Taking a moment to compose herself, she delved into the wellspring of energy inside herself, letting it circulate her body faster, strengthening her and chasing away the subtle creeping chill of the rain. She took a breath and then sprinted towards the dumpster. With unnatural grace she leaped and used it as a springboard to launch herself up to the same window.

"Oof." She let out a grunt as she slammed into the brick and mortar.

She spared a few seconds to look into the window, mercifully the room was empty. She didn't want to perform an impromptu memory wipe. Getting her feet under her, she tensed and then jumped powerfully, clearing the rim and landing on the roof with a roll.

"Oh c'mon!" the fugitive said exasperatedly. He was feet away from her, catching his breath.

"You're under arrest!" She took a step forward and he skittered back.

"I didn't do anything." He said distractedly, his eyes frantically looking for an escape.

"Then why'd you run?" Instead of answering he bolted away. She was quickly on his tail, her boots crunching on the gravel.

"Stop dammit!"

She pulled out her wand and fired a few stunners. The rain and her speed threw off her aim a bit, but she was hoping to get lucky. One shot almost clipped him, but with preternatural awareness he turned aside at the last moment. Now he was running in a zigzag trying to throw off her aim. She abandoned her attempts at stunning him and put on a burst of speed. She was gaining on him and would soon have him. He was quickly getting to the end of the roof and after that he would be hers. Or not. He didn't slow as he neared the edge.

With reckless abandon he leapt off the roof and she slid to a stop in sheer surprise. For a few moments he seemed to hang in the air and then gravity reasserted itself and he slammed into the other roof, rolling a few times. He stood up, his face dirty but his grin bright and smug. He looked back at her across the thirty-foot gap.

"See you later rookie!" He shouted then turned around and took off at a light jog.

She ground her teeth in anger and her hair bled red. She would wipe that smug look off his face. She took a few steps back and then sprinted forward, her robes wiped about her and the rain stung her face but she paid it no mind. He must have heard her because he turned and watched her in morbid curiosity. Her body suffused with energy she leapt off, a burst of magic, scattering loose pebbles, propelling her.

At the apex of her leap her wand found itself in her hand and she bellowed out a spell.

_"__**Incarcerous!**__"_

With a bang, ropes flung forward towards him. He tried to twist out of the way but it was too late. He fell face first with a startled shout, ropes twining him from shoulder to ankle. She landed with a grunt and rolled into a graceless heap. Groaning, she pushed herself up, wincing as the stones bit into her hands and knees. Still, no amount of pain could wipe the grin from her face.

"Missed me?" she asked smug. She used her boot to roll him and was none too gentle.

"That's Auror brutality." He snarked, glaring at her.

"Boo hoo," She mocked. "Did the big bad criminal get a booboo?"

"I'm not a criminal, I didn't do a thing."

"I'm sure the contraband you dumped into the river wasn't yours either." She said dryly.

"You won't find a thing on me…" he started but she cut him off.

"I don't need to, you're a known felon, assaulted an Auror and you ran, that's enough to bring you in."

She knelt beside him and placed a hand firmly on his shoulder.

"Now I forgot my portkey so I suggest you don't wriggle too much. Wouldn't want you splinching now would we?" she said conversationally giving him a toothy smile, enjoying how rapidly his skin paled.

"Wait…!" That's as far as he got before with a slight twist and crack the two disappeared in a swirl of colour and cloth.

She tried her best not to flinch as Captain Shacklebolt pinned her with a stare. She was in his office, well the office he shared with the other captains of the force, giving her report. Thankfully the office was empty save the two of them.

"Auror Tonks, I asked you to follow up on a lead, not have a merry chase across London."

"Well what did you want me to do? The guy ran - was I just supposed to let him get away?" She asked indignantly. He raised a brow at her tone and she had the presence of mind to look apologetic.

"Sir." She said respectfully.

"I expect you to be subtle. Pulling out a wand in the middle of a crowd…" he began but she interrupted him.

"I didn't even use a wand. Plus, it was a standard crowd control spell, that's what it's for…"

"Are you going to keep interrupting me rookie?" Shacklebolt asked his tone hard.

"No sir, sorry sir." Tonks snapped to attention and tried to keep her face blank. Her hair though was another matter, cycling through different colours before it settled into a pale pink.

"Unless you have no choice, throwing magic around muggles is ill advised, a violation of the Statutes. You cannot just go in wands blazing, I need you to use your head. Understood?"

"Yes sir." She said immediately.

"Good, what should you have done then?" Shacklebolt leaned back in his seat and waited for her to gather her thoughts.

Tonks frowned, thinking. This was not the first time the Captain had asked her to think of alternative solutions to her work after the fact. She had hated it at first, thinking it was just a way for him to embarrass her even further, especially since the first time he had asked her to do so had been in front of the other rookies. But slowly she had come to see its merits.

"Edmore is known to be jumpy…" she began slowly. "I should have first ensured that he would not have any avenue of escape and quickly immobilized him." She looked at him in contemplation. She cringed when he gave her a deadpan look.

"An aggressive approach, as usual." He sighed tiredly. "You miss the obvious. There were two of you, yet you abandoned your partner on some misguided attempt at showing off…"

"Sir, I…" Tonks tried to say but the captain steamrolled right over her.

"It was reckless and stupid, and in any other situation could have possibly led to serious injury not just to yourself but your partner. There's a reason Aurors, especially junior Aurors work in teams."

"Yes sir." She said after a beat of silence.

"You may leave." Shacklebolt waved her off, turning his attention to the other reports on his desk.

"Sir." She saluted and turned to leave but hesitated at the door. She looked back at her captain and steeled her nerves.

She was a fresh rookie and most would not have dared to do what she was about to do. But Tonks liked to set herself apart from the norm, plus she knew that despite the hard line Shacklebolt took with her, he had a soft spot for her. At least she thought he had a soft spot; it was hard to tell. So swallowing down her nervousness, she pushed ahead.

"Sir, there's been rumours around the bull pen, about all these informants we are bringing in…" Shacklebolt looked at her quietly, his face impassive. She hesitated, "Is there truth to it all?"

"You're going to have to be more specific. There are a lot of rumours flying around the department."

"I um – apparently someone is planning something…"

"Stay on the job long enough and you'll learn that someone is always planning something." He said not unkindly. Shacklebolt looked at her and then sighed, deciding to cut her some slack.

"All we know is that someone is playing with things that they shouldn't, a lot of untradable goods are disappearing off the black market, enough to draw our attention. We keep hearing the same name though, the Alchemist." He said with practiced carelessness.

"Is that all?" Tonks asked eagerly.  
"It's all I'm willing to tell you." He shrugged. "Now go get cleaned up and finish all that paperwork I assigned you. Oh, and before I forget you're on desk duty for the next month, we have a backlog of paperwork and complaints and you will be going through them with a fine-tooth comb. Understood?"

"Yessir." She grimaced. She was getting off lightly, she knew but that didn't mean her punishment was something she would enjoy.

The Auror department dealt with a multitude of complaints every single day and many were often ridiculous, but someone had to always follow up. The department could never be accused of negligence. With a final nod the young Auror left the office. Shacklebolt looked down at the other report on his desk and frowned.

He may have seemed unconcerned when he had discussed the issue with Tonks but he was worried. Director Bones had pulled him off the vampire case temporarily. It was all hands on deck she had said. He could understand why; it wasn't often that someone bought out the black market's supply of both unicorn blood and manticore venom. Whatever foul machinations their culprit was planning they were sure to bear fruit soon. Maybe it was time to bring in those consultants., he mused.

* * *

"It's okay to miss them Hadrian. It's quite normal." Madam Pomfrey said kindly.

They were in her office, having a session. Pomfrey's office was actually quite airy, its colours light and inviting. The large window looked out to the forest beyond and the smell of flowers, light and fragrant, wafted into the room on a slight breeze. Hadrian had initially had misgivings about talking to the Healer. It felt weird talking to someone who was not a friend or family about his inner thoughts. Madam Pomfrey may not have been a total stranger but he had not liked baring his soul.

Still, aunt Minnie had put her foot down when she had learnt that he had been sneaking off to stare at the Mirror of Erised. His misgivings had faded somewhat, in time. Madam Pomfrey, or Poppy as she insisted he call her when it was just the two of them, was quite casual, never pushing him to talk.

They would talk about inane things and at the end of the hour he would find himself feeling just a little bit lighter. Eventually they had brushed upon his nightmares, digging a little bit into the whys. Today though they were on the topic of his ill-fated encounter with the mirror.

"Most people don't end up trapped by a cursed mirror though." He said bitterly, his gaze lowered.

"I suppose that's true. But then, how many people _do_ encounter ancient enchanted mirrors." Poppy said soothingly.  
"Padma wasn't." He said suddenly, to his own surprise. His tone tight. Still he continued, "She knew something was wrong and I – I didn't…" he said almost forlorn. His hand closed around his chair's armrest, his knuckles turning white.

"Does that make Padma better than you then? Stronger than you are?"

"No – yes. I don't know… Maybe." Hadrian shrunk into his chair, agitated. The little trinkets in the room shook and rattled. Hadrian noticing closed his eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm himself. Soon enough everything settled and he opened his eyes to find Poppy smiling at him gently.

"So you believe you should have been able to tell that you were enchanted?" she asked, her voice nothing but curious. Hadrian hesitated before he nodded with confidence he did not feel.

"Yes."

"Why?" she asked plainly. Hadrian frowned; confusion clear on his face. She decided to elaborate.

"Why would you, an eleven-year-old, be able to tell that he was under an enchantment?"

"Why wouldn't I?" For a moment Poppy thought that Hadrian was being smart with her but as she stared into his eyes, she saw the question for what it was; burning curiosity.

"Hadrian I know you are a clever boy, but despite that you are still just that – a boy, and there are things that you just don't know and aren't prepared for. What happened was unfortunate and you should have never been put into that sort of situation, a situation that wizards older and more powerful than you have struggled with." She looked at him then, her eyes full of compassion.

"Just because someone your age was able to battle the enchantment, doesn't make you lesser. They are the exception and not the norm and you shouldn't beat yourself up over it."

There was silence after Poppy's little spiel, neither of them saying anything. Hadrian knew she was right. Padma was an empath, something that Hadrian understood, at least intellectually but was still slowly coming to grips with – she had been able to literary feel the wrongness in the mirror while he had been all too susceptible.

Hadrian hated that, he knew he was gifted, academically and magically and yet all that had not mattered. The simple matter of it was that Padma was better and Hadrian was jealous… The thought tasted bitter. Poppy watched the dance of emotions play on Hadrian's face but said nothing. A large part of counselling was letting the person being counselled to work through their own emotions and come to their own conclusions. Then Hadrian nodded, much more confidently this time around.

"I think I understand…"

"I'm glad you do. Remember that if you ever need to talk, I'm here." She smiled softly before her eyes sparked with mischief.

"Now tell me about that rune script you were looking into…"

They talked for a few more moments, about nothing particularly serious; the school quidditch tournament, how his classes were going and all manner of small talk. Eventually Hadrian said his goodbyes and left.

For a moment he stood outside the hospital wing, undecided. He knew Padma and Hermione were probably outside, by the lake taking advantage of the warming weather. Neville was probably in the green houses. Ron and some of his housemates would probably be at the quidditch pitch. None of those prospects really interested him to be honest. He had been avoiding Padma for a few days now, things between them had been awkward ever since the Mirror.

Padma had wanted to talk afterwards, but Hadrian had brushed her off, unwilling to discuss it. His emotions had been in flux and so he had retreated, made distance. Hermione, bless her soul, had decided not to get involved, though he knew that Padma had told her what had happened. Still he knew she wouldn't keep her thoughts to herself for long, that wasn't like the Gryffindor at all. He sighed; he was probably overthinking things. Eyes clouding over, he let his mind trail down the familiar bond. Hedwig was out hunting. Feelings of affection flooded down their channel and filled him with warmth.

"Ow." He said more surprised than hurt.

A paper plane was hovering in front of him, its tip crumpled from when it had jabbed his forehead. Irritated, Hadrian snatched the piece of enchanted paper forcefully. He had seen the paper planes around the school, a whimsical way of communicating he thought. It did require that one be at least familiar with the recipient's magical signature. Grumbling under his breath, Hadrian unfolded the missive.

_Hadrian,  
_

_Would you care for a spot of tea with an old woman?  
_

_Perenelle._

It was brief and straight to the point. Hadrian only had to weigh his options for a brief second before he shrugged. He had nothing better to do and the ancient witch had a way of always making their encounters interesting.

The Flamels' rooms were on the third floor, in the west wing of the ancient castle. It didn't take Hadrian long to get there. Looking at the plain door he knocked, three crisp knocks and waited. The door swung open on silent hinges, beckoning him in. He entered and stopped. Hadrian had visited the Flamel apartment, as it was called these days, before.

The door opened into a very comfortable parlour, large windows on the far side gave a spectacular view of the lake. A fireplace was off to the side with a couple of comfortable leather chairs spread out around it. The parlour was warm and idyllic and he fondly remembered the last time he had shared tea with Perenelle with Padma, Neville and Hermione accompanying him.

The sight that greeted him as he crossed the threshold was vastly different. The room looked like a warzone – bits of glass and masonry covered the once plush carpet, chairs were upturned and broken. The very air hung heavy with residual magic. What had happened here, was it an experiment gone wrong? It was certainly possible, the Flamels were magical researchers and accidents happened; though a large part of him doubted this was accidental.

Hadrian tensed, feeling unsure. Hesitantly, he took a few more steps inside. A heavy click announced the door closing and locking behind him. Hadrian cursed. He grabbed the door and pulled and it didn't even budge. He quickly pulled out his wand and pointed at the door.

_**"Alohamora."**_

The spell impacted the door and fizzled, having no effect. He cursed again. That was the only spell he knew for unlocking doors and it had failed. Something was definitely wrong. Where was Perenelle? She should have been here. A sound, something heavy had him looking around. His eyes fell on the partially opened door to his left. He knew where that led; the Flamels' lab.

Tense and afraid, he crept forward, his wand held ready and his magic bubbling in nervous anticipation. He paused at the door, warring with himself. He shouldn't be here. He glanced back at the door and the destroyed room and shook his head. He pushed the door and gasped out surprised.

"Perenelle!"

The woman was seemingly unconscious and chained to a chair. Her clothes torn and bloody from several cuts on her body. Throwing caution to the wind he rushed to her.

"Perenelle! Perenelle." He shook her frantically.

The woman groaned and her eyes fluttered, unfocused. Her face was scratched, her nose was broken, spilling blood down her jaw and neck. Hadrian tugged at the chains and immediately cried out in pain. The moment he had touched them, it had felt like so many bees had stung his hand. His shout seemed to jolt Perenelle into her present reality. Her eyes immediately found his face and filled with frantic horror.

"No! You have to go. Right now! Go!" She peered beyond him, looking crazed; her eyes alit with genuine terror.

There was a sound between a whizz and sizzle. Hadrian tried to turn, to bring his wand to bear, but there was nothing he could do. The spell slammed into his side with bruising force, lifting him up and sent him pinwheeling across the room. He slammed hard against the floor, rolling into a heap. His vision was swimming and little darts of light darted past his eyes. He wheezed and shakily pushed himself up.

The distinct clicking of heels on stone had him looking up. A shadow peeled itself from the corner, inky blackness melting and sliding off the slight but masculine frame to reveal a familiar visage. Hadrian felt a lump of cold dread solidify in his gut, its icy fingers creeping up his limbs, making him numb.

"I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere Mr Potter." Professor Quirrell said almost sounding sincere except for that little self-satisfied smile he was sporting.

Quirrell stretched out his arm towards Hadrian, fingers splayed out in a grabbing motion. Hadrian felt a giant invisible hand wrap ethereal fingers around him and lift him up. Before Hadrian could even think of struggling or mounting some sort of magical counter, he found himself dumped at Quirrell's feet.

"Hadrian no!" Perenelle's shout fell on deaf ears. Hadrian surged up wand up and glowing.

"_**Diffindo!**__"_

Hadrian pushed as much magic as he could through the wand, massively overpowering the spell. A bolt of silver shot towards Quirrell. For a moment the professor looked surprised before years of experience had him smoothly move his body. One foot going behind and turning his torso inward, Quirrell met the spell with his own glowing wand. Hadrian watched as the professor bated the spell aside with contemptuous ease. Awe battled with helplessness; the latter winning as faster than Hadrian could track, Quirrell's wand blurred.

There was a flash of red as another spell barrelled into Hadrian's chest and he felt his wand ripped out of his hands. In the next moment, Hadrian felt his body seize up, going stiff. All he found himself able to do was move his eyes.

"Well that could have been unpleasant."

Quirrell sniffed, looking at the wall where Hadrian's deflected spell had hit. The stone walls looking like a great beast had raked its claws over them. Quirrell grimaced, he was glad he had been able to deflect that, it had not been as easy as he had made it look. The boy was powerful, of that there was no doubt and even now he could feel the boy struggling against the petrification. The boy's magic trying to push against Quirrell's own power. He felt a prodding within the depths of his mind, the master was getting impatient.

Turning away from his scrutiny of the masonry, Quirrell turned to his first captive. The woman – she had put up quite the fight and it was virtue of the element of surprise that he had bested her. He grimaced as his side throbbed. His victory was not without cost though.

"Now Mrs Flamel, I believe I have managed to procure proper incentive." The woman's response was a vicious snarl.

"Let him go! He has nothing to do with this." She stared at Hadrian whose eyes were filled with equal parts fear and confusion. The boy was suspended, levitating a few inches off the floor. A parody of a puppet whose master had yet to decide what to do.

"Tell me how to get the stone and I'll let him go." He offered.

"You'll kill us the moment you have it." She glared up at him.

He felt the boy grow frantic under his spell, his magic straining. The woman was right of course, neither of the two would be leaving alive, especially the boy, his master demanded it. Quirrell gestured and Hadrian floated toward him, stopping only a few feet before the chained woman.

"Well either you choose a quick painless death or an agonizing one."

He smiled, his face turning cruel. The woman grit her teeth and glared. She would endure he knew; the woman had taken his Cruciatus curse like a champ. Torture clearly would not work on her. He turned and jabbed the wand into Hadrian's side. Her eyes widened in dawning horror and he relished the scent of her fear.

"Choose for his sake…"

Hadrian screamed, pain overcoming his immobilization as hundreds of volts of electricity coursed and bit into him.  
"Stop! Please!" Perenelle watched as yellow lightning zipped all over the young boy's body, his back arched in pain, a scream tearing past his lips.

The lightning stopped as abruptly as it came. Hadrian slumped forward, still floating. His chest heaved frantically trying to take in sweet cool air. The boy's body shook and twitched.

"Well?" Quirrell asked. Perenelle looked pained and resigned.

"You can't get it, not as you are. The mirror won't let you…" The woman gibbered, her eyes never leaving Hadrian's twitching form. Quirrell felt confused and opened his mouth – but it was not his voice that next spoke.

"Enough of this foolishness." The voice was cold and sibilant, radiating malice. Quirrell paled, Perenelle looked around franticly searching for the source. Hadrian gasped in pain, his head, his scar burning.

"Master…m-my lord…" Quirrell stuttered. In any other situation Perenelle would have been amused at this sudden transformation of the man. Yet, if this once cunning and powerful man could be reduced to such a state, what awaited her.

"Let me speak to them." The voice commanded.

"But master you are not strong enough – the boy…" Quirrell spoke, his voice soft, almost afraid.

"I am strong enough for this."

Quirrell seemed resigned and took three quick steps away from them and then he did the strangest thing. He unwrapped his turban. Immediately the smell of decay assaulted Perenelle's nose and something malicious pressed at the edges of her perception. It was dark and foul magic.

"No." Hadrian whispered, yet his voice carried across the room. The boy was pale, his face a rictus of flabbergasted horror.

"I'm glad you recognize me boy. I was not sure you would after our last encounter in the forest…."

Quirrell dropped the turban fully revealing what could only be a face at the back of his head. Sickly and pale, malformed and sinister, red eyes stared with barely contained fury at Hadrian.

"You're supposed to be dead…" Hadrian whispered, desperately willing reality to make sense.

Hadrian couldn't tear his eyes away, his scar was throbbing, burning a hole straight to his brain, yet he could not look away. Here was the phantom from his dreams, the monster who had torn his world asunder and even as reduced as he was, Hadrian feared him.

"Voldemort." Perenelle said disbelievingly. The face turned to her, Quirrell moving backwards, until Voldemort stood before her.

"Now you will tell me what I want to know." Voldemort hissed.

"I…" Perenelle began but Voldemort cut her off.

"_**Legilimens!**_"

Perenelle's eyes rolled up into the back of her skull and she let out a silent scream, her body locking up. It lasted a few moments before the woman slumped back down, out of breath and her face ashen and aged.

"Use the boy…" Voldemort said, his voice laboured.

Hadrian found his body turning without his permission and for the first time he noticed what was on the other side of the room. It was a large ornate mirror; one he was quite familiar with.

"You reduced me to this state Potter and you will be the instrument of my rebirth."

Hadrian stared into the depths of the mirror, afraid and filled with dreadful anticipation. Curiously, there was already an image within the depths of the mirror. A stone plinth sat innocuously in the centre of the mirror and on top of that was a red stone, uncut and unrefined, yet exceedingly valuable; the Philosopher's Stone.

"No!"

Hadrian tried to move away, but Quirrell jabbed him with his wand and Hadrian stumbled forward. He looked up and saw his form in the mirror. Pale and bruised, his robes still smoking, his mirror self stood by the plinth and grinned.

"What do you see boy?" Quirrell asked, impatient.

"My parents." The lie fell easily from Hadrian's lips, surprising even himself.

Hadrian watched, spellbound as his mirror self reached for the stone and plucked it off the stone and easily pocketed it. His image grinned one last time and patted his pocket, oozing self-satisfaction and then faded out of view. Hadrian froze - there was a weight in his pocket – his heart started beating faster and faster, adrenaline flooding his veins.

"The boy lies! Check him." Voldemort hissed, impatient.

Hadrian exploded into action, he spun around, his leg snapping out and catching Quirrell in the knee. There was a sickening crunch, Quirrell buckled falling even as he howled in pain and rage. Hadrian wasted no time and threw another kick, this one at the man's abdomen. Quirrell crumpled and Hadrian ran as fast as he could towards Perenelle.

"No, no. Leave me. Go." The woman screamed. She looked up and her eyes widened. "Down!"

Hadrian threw himself to the ground. A spell whooshed over him, powerful and green. It impacted the wall blasting it black. Hadrian instinctively rolled to his right as another spell hit the floor. He felt cool wood against his hand and almost smiled. Wrapping his fingers around his wand he sprung up and threw a spell at the teacher. His spell splashed against a silver shield and Hadrian cursed. Desperately Hadrian threw a few more cutting spells, trying to bring his power to bear but his body hurt and his magic felt sluggish and weak.

"_**Illuminatos.**_"

Desperate and running out of ideas, Hadrian threw the magical equivalent of a flash bang. There was a high-pitched whine as the spell crashed against the shield and exploded. Hadrian instinctively shut his eyes but he still found himself blinded. He couldn't hear anything, his ears ringing. He stumbled toward where he thought the exit was.

Instincts and magic screamed at him to move. Disoriented and half blind, he could only manage to barely jump to the side. It saved his life – the spell exploded with the subtlety of a raging bull, ripping a hole into the stone floor, sending shrapnel and him flying. His head hurt, his eyes burned, pretty much his entire body hurt. He groaned and tried to get up, a boot to the chest stopped him.

He looked up and there was Quirrell, smug and victorious. Hadrian tried to struggle, but with the foot on his chest he could barely move.

"So dies Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived."

Quirrell raised his wand, the tip glowing an electric green. Hadrian's struggles became frantic, instinct telling him that he did not want any part of that spell near him. Hadrian clawed at the leg holding him down, yet it remained unmoving. The wand was coming down, Quirrell was saying an incantation, but Hadrian could not register whatever it was. His hand found purchase on the man's bare leg and the world exploded in pain.

Hadrian heard someone scream and realised it wasn't just Quirrell, but him too. Then it stopped, the screaming and the pain and Hadrian could breathe again. Taking large gulps of air, Hadrian struggled up, propping himself on his elbows.

"It hurts, damn it hurts…" Quirrell was sprawled on the floor, mumbling.

"Get up you fool, get up. You are a wizard, use your wand!" Voldemort shouted, enraged.

Hadrian looked at his hands, they looked red and raw, just like Quirrell's leg. He quickly noticed Quirrell's wand lying inches from the man's hand. Quirrell made to grasp his focus and Hadrian lunged. Unthinking and unflinching, Hadrian threw himself atop the older man and his hands dug into Quirrell's face.

The pain was overwhelming and yet desperate and afraid Hadrian bore it. Quirrell screamed as his flesh burned, the skin drying and flaking away. Quirrell's screams were then joined by another sound, more piercing and otherworldly but no less pained. Voldemort screamed as whatever effect Hadrian's flesh found him.

Quirrell bucked and flailed, but Hadrian clung on, his vision blurring and his scar the centrepiece of the bonfire that was his entire body. Yet he kept watching and feeling as a man literally turned to dust under him. Something exploded beneath him and Hadrian lost his grip, flung into the air. He could still feel his hands burning, raw but not as bad as he would have thought. He heard a dry rattling heave beside him - a death knell - and swallowed the bile that rose up his throat; it was too late for Quirrell, he knew that.

Rolling onto his back he watched as what could only be Voldemort escaped the dying body. Shooting up as a cloud of dust and ash, the face screamed one final time before it shot up into the ceiling passing through unencumbered, escaping. Hadrian could feel himself losing consciousness, yet he still turned his head when he heard a door explode into so much splinters.  
"Hadrian!" His last sight was worried eyes and soft hands and then he knew no more as he succumbed to oblivion.

* * *

**Authors Note: Well that took a while. I sort of lost the thread for a while and couldn't figure out the exact tone for this chapter, so if it feels a bit disjointed I hope you understand. Someone reviewed about some formatting issues and I honestly can't figure out why some lines have more spaces between them than others so I dunno. But anyway, I'm done with Hadrian's first year, it was probably always going to be the hardest to write for me because well our hero isn't exactly a badass yet nor is that changing anytime soon but give it time. Anyway as usual all critiques are welcome, they definitely help me figure out how to go about this.**

**Hope you enjoy this and please leave a review**


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